


Secrecy

by zEdith_FNC



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1950s, Adult Language, Bottom Russia (Hetalia), Cold War, Hangover, Human, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Spies & Secret Agents, The OCs are bosses.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zEdith_FNC/pseuds/zEdith_FNC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred and Ivan try to catch each other spying on the other. They're both feeding their governments with information, but they try to break one another before the other does to get the most without giving much, but end up falling for each other.<br/>--<br/>"My family escaped from Russia as soon as Stalin died. My father defected and he's working with your government now." Ivan had to tread carefully.<br/>"Oh is that so? What does your dad know?" Alfred pushed, wanting more information.<br/>"I don't know, he doesn't talk about work much, he never really did."<br/>"Even now?"<br/>"Even now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions of Ivan and Alfred mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to one of my IRL friends for coming up with the name!

The saxophone wailed long into the night in this particular jazz club that Alfred F. Jones himself enjoyed frequenting. Alfred never knew the name of the musicians that played, nor did he care honestly. The club owner always picked great musicians to play, and tonight was no exception. Dressed from head to tow in his bowtie and spats, he took an elegant seat right next to the band. The waiter came and he ordered his usual, Kentucky bourbon with a nice, juicy hamburger. He tapped one spat covered foot against the ground to the beat of the music as he waited for his order.

Cigar girls came around him quite often, trying to sell to him. Alfred turned down everything they had to offer, tobacco related or not. He didn't believe prostitution was a right thing to do, nor did he swing for that team. No one needed to know that though. He always just politely declined all of their wares. His food came, and he ate it quickly, as always, throwing back the bourbon soon after. A few more glasses of bourbon later is when something strange happened.

The club owner came on the stage and announced something that no one was expecting. "Ladies and gentlemen! It is my pleasure to introduce the greatest musician I have heard in a long time. Please welcome this wonder from overseas, Mr. Ivan Brandonson!" Alfred looked up in his tipsy haze to be greeted with a tall pale man with a very prominent nose. He said nothing, but the expression on his face was one of disgust. His expression softened once his gaze was set upon the instrument strapped to his chest. His saxophone. He bowed slightly, set his lips to the mouthpiece, and started playing.

Alfred stared at the large man as his body rocked with the notes of the saxophone, silently entranced with every movement he made. Where was he from? He looked very European but Brandonson was an American name. His song finished and he took a swig from his flask. He glanced quickly around the room, violet eyes darting from face to face. About 70-75 people. Not a lot but the small club was packed. A deep breath, lips to the reed, and another song was played. Song after song, swig after swig, he ran out of pre-prepared songs along with his pre-prepared booze. He hopped off the stage, headed toward the bar, and had the tender refill his flask. "Vodka," he said swiftly, throwing a few rumpled bills on the counter, hoping that would cover the cost. The tender filled his flask hand handed his change back to him. Ivan nodded in thanks, stuffing the bills and coins into his pocket and headed back on the stage.

The waiter came by Alfred once more. He asked for the whole bottle of bourbon for himself and a whole bottle of whatever the saxophone player ordered at the bar. The waiter nodded, adding it to his notepad. He returned with two bottles, one for his loyal customer and the other for the musician. He caught a glimpse of the other bottle. Vodka. Was he Russian? The waiter waited just off stage until his song finished. Alfred looked at the tall man as he was handed the bottle. Again, he nodded in thanks. The waiter pointed at Alfred, mumbling something to him. Holding their bottles by their necks, the two men nodded toward each other in yet another silent thanks.

The night grew old and the club closed. Empty bottles collected into bins and flasks quietly tucked away, instruments fit snugly into their cases and packed into vans. Alfred followed the lone saxophone player to his house. The musician didn't drive, instead heading downstairs into the nearest subway. Dimes we dropped into the turnstiles as the men headed uptown. Alfred was well versed in spying, but he didn't know that Ivan was trained in counter spy techniques, courtesy of the KGB.

It wasn't hard for Ivan to hear the loud American clamor onto the same train as him as the doors were closing. Ivan closed his eyes, leaned back into his seat, and honed in on the sound of his breathing.

"14th Street Union Square station next, 14th Street, Union Square." Ivan woke up suddenly. That was his transfer! When had he fallen asleep? That wasn't important; he needed to make the next train. He collected his things and looked up to see the American wide awake and collecting his things as well. Ivan smiled and walked calmly to his next train. Maybe he can lose him in the confusion of 14th street transfers, or maybe around 42nd street transfers. Grand Central is a big place after all. But if Ivan couldn't lose him at 42nd, it would all be for naught. He really didn't need to get off at 42nd. An idea hit him; he approached the American.

"Thank you for the drink earlier today. How did you know what I drink?" If this old-style American was a spy, he would be able to handle him. If not, then he's just curious or biding his time. "What is your name by the way?"

"Alfred F. Jones." Alfred held his hand out for a friendly shake. Ivan shuffled a little, extending and shaking hands. "And I didn't know what you drink. I asked the dude to give you whatever you ordered at the bar." He smiled brightly at the man, boarding the next train with him.

"Where do you live that you're taking this train?" Ivan carefully probed the young American.

"Me? Oh I don't live down here. I'm visiting a friend."

"This late at night?"

"Yeah, he's expecting me."

"Oh a he? How odd."

"It's not odd! What's odd is your accent!" Ivan knew it was going to come.

"My accent isn't odd! My family escaped from Russia as soon as Stalin died. My father defected and he's working with your government now." He had to tread carefully.

"Oh is that so? What does your dad know?"

"I don't know, he doesn't talk about work much, he never really did."

"Even now?"

"Even now."

"Well, maybe you can answer this then. Why do you have an American sounding name?"

"My parents decided to change it after coming to this country. I had no say in it." Alfred stood up, accepting the explanation.

"I see, well I would love to hear your music again some time. I really enjoyed it." Ivan nodded and Alfred got off at the next stop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit into Russia's method of information passing and America tries some more to get him talking.

"I haven't said anything. I am simply completing my assignment. I have found someone who seems like the perfect target. I'm working on him now. Please be patient." The words were spoken in slow Russian. The darkness of the room was something he had grown accustomed to. This room, similar to a dark room used for developing photos, was a place he spent much of his time. He held up his strip of negative film, inspecting the ink on the small images. It was legible enough. He set the film back into the container it was purchased in. Then into the small container to store the film when it had been all used up. A cover story was forming in his mind, and it was nearly perfect.

He stepped out of his apartment and into the midday sun of December. His hand wrapped tightly around the small container in his coat pocket as Ivan walked to the drop off. Down again into the nearest subway station, destined for downtown Brooklyn. All the way south, to Brighton Beach.

His boots crunched softly under the sand. It reminded him of his homeland. The snow, the cloudy skies, the short seven hours of daylight, the piercing winds going right through his coat. He hated it. He tried to push all thoughts of it out of his mind, but thankfully, or maybe not so thankfully, a loud and familiar American interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey! Ivan, right? From last night! What are you doing all the way down here, dude?" Yes, it was Alfred from last night, with that horrible accent polluting his name.

"Nothing really. Just headed to a friend's house so he can develop my film and send it back home to the rest of my family." Time to put his story into play. He knew Alfred would buy it. It was nearly foolproof. Nearly, because there's always room for error.

"Why not get it developed at the store? It doesn't really cost too much. And why are you walking on the beach if you're going to a friend's house?" Alfred pushed for as much information as he could get.

"I'm walking on the beach because the sound of the sand under my boots reminds me of the snow. I actually miss it a little." It wasn't the snow Ivan missed.

"Yeah, you're kinda right." Alfred slowed down a little, listening to the sound.

"And my friend will develop the film for free. I don't have much money. Most of the money I earn goes to my parents for the bills." Alfred nodded. Ivan seized the chance to drop something onto the sand from his pocket. He started speaking to cover the soft thud it would make.

"Now is my turn for questions, yes? You have interrogated me enough." He laughed shallowly. "What are you doing around here?"

"I was actually thinking about going swimming. The water is still warm from the summer and the sand is cool. Do you want to go with me? It's not like the snow of your place, but it'll surely help take your mind off of it!" Ivan shook his head.

"I do not think it is good idea to go swimming so close to winter. There may not be snow on the ground but the cold air will make you sick when you come out of the water." Ivan nodded

knowingly. It's how his father died, hypothermia in the northern seas near Germany during the war.

"Yeah that's a fair enough point. I guess I'll go with you to your friend's house then," and see what you're really up to, Commie, Alfred mentally added.

"No, I do not think that would be such a good idea. He does not like unexpected visitors."

"Oh a he? That's rather odd isn't it?" Alfred replied with a coy smile, using the Russian's own words against him.

"No, it's not odd. What is odd is your constant peppering of questions and your constant need to do what I am doing." Alfred stopped suddenly. Ivan turned back to look at the young man, eyes stealing a glance at something behind him. Alfred shook his head, smiling slightly. He had to shake off the fact that he'd nearly been caught!

"Sorry man, I spaced out for a second there. How about I buy you some coffee? There's a really good coffee shop around here. You said you weren't in a rush, right? It's right around the corner." Alfred started in the direction of the shop, off of the sand.

"I do not think I said that, but I suppose it will be alright. I cannot take too long though. It is rude to make people wait, and I do not want to keep my friend waiting." Ivan walked slightly behind Alfred, taking the time to look where the two had just walked. The item he had dropped was gone, and a figure was walking in the other direction. He sighed in slight relief.

"You okay dude? You say you don't want to keep your friend waiting but you're walking all slow now." Ivan looked at Alfred's blue eyes and saw them searching for an answer.

"Yes, I am fine. Let us go. If I am going to be late, I might as well enjoy myself now and deal with the consequences later.

"Yeah man! That's the spirit! Let's go!" Ivan shook his head at the excitable American, letting himself be guided around downtown Brooklyn to a café. "What do you think you'll be ordering?"

"Probably some tea and a couple sweets if they look nice," Ivan responded quickly. Alfred nodded as he walked into the café and ordered his coffee, Ivan's tea, and a few of whatever sweets he had interest in. The cashier nodded and asked them to have a seat, saying she'd bring it to them. Alfred nodded, going over to sit near the door. Ivan looked around the café after being handed his sweets, noticing the figure from the beach again. He had his nose buried in a book, using the item Ivan had dropped as a bookmark when the waitress came to give him his coffee.

"Dude you okay? That's the second time you spaced out with in the past ten minutes or so!" Ivan held his head and nodded.

"Yes, I am okay. I got dizzy." The figure looked at Ivan and nodded disapprovingly. He was going to be in a lot of trouble if his film didn't get to where it needed to go soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred brings Ivan into his home for dinner.

"The Russian will catch on quick. I don't know how much longer I can keep going before he starts to suspect me. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knows." Alfred's words were mumbled slowly under his breath as he wrote. He sent it through his coder and off to the CIA NYC division. The remainder of his message was burned in his ashtray, then rinsed away in the kitchen sink. He pulled the door to his 'spy room' closed, then locked all it's secrets away. He tucked the key in his pocket, along with all his others. He quickly tidied the rest of his home, closed and locked his front door, and bounded down the stairs from his third floor apartment in Manhattan, headed to the grocery store.

He smiled and nodded in polite hellos along the entire route, making his way swiftly to the store and back home. He didn't want any messages to be left unattended in his room. It made the agency antsy when he didn't reply, but for good reason. Alfred wasn't in as much danger as the guys in the Soviet Union, but he was still in great danger if a Soviet spy found him out. He knows how ruthlessly the Soviets are trained. He knows they do not even give killing someone a second thought if it is necessary for the continuation of their messed up 'union'. The only things that should be politically united in his mind, were the states that were united under the Constitution of the United States of America.

He smiled, breathing in the chilly air. 'Today is going to be good,' Alfred thought with confidence.

He made it back to his home within the hour. As soon as he closed his front door, he placed his bags on the table and went straight to his spy room. The machines were humming with the words of his co-workers and bosses. 'Do whatever you need. Just don't get caught. Keep us updated.' He nodded at the paper, burning it in the same manner as earlier. He put away his groceries, and went to look out of his window. He smiled at the buzz of motion beneath him, letting his mind wander.

It didn't take long for his thoughts to focus on a particular Russian man.What was his real name? What does he do for a living? Does playing Saxophone cover all of his costs? Does he have any other family besides himself and his father? Wait, why was he thinking about this Ivan person for so long? Why should he be thinking about him so much? Warmth ran across his face as he tried to think of why his thoughts centered around him. Was it his accent? No, he couldn't have possibly be attracted that horrid communist accent. Was it the way he played his saxophone? He paused to think about it.

Maybe.

His attention turned back to the window and the busy street below. The man of his thoughts was right outside. He ran down the stairs with a new found vigor, tapping on his shoulder when he caught up to him.

Ivan turned around to see Alfred looking rather disheveled, panting with his weight on his hands supported by his knees. He looked up and smiled as he caught his breath. He stood straight and took a final deep breath before speaking.

"Hey, I saw you from my window, and I was wondering if you wanted to come up to my place for dinner?" Ivan thought of the offer for a bit. His film roll had been turned in yesterday after Alfred had left him alone. He fiddled with the item in his pocket slightly before nodding.

The scanner device should be able to pick up the signal through the building. He followed Alfred up the stairs.

"This is where you live? It's a nice area of town. Very expensive though." Ivan noted aloud.

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, it's a little expensive but I work a good job and so I'm able to afford it." He smiled in satisfaction, making his way through his house to close the door he had carelessly left open. Russia nodded, noticing Alfred close the door.

"So what will you be making that you simply had to invite me over off the street for? I had business to attend to but I suppose it does not matter to you." He made his way around the apartment, looking around at the decorations. Bald eagle motifs were everywhere, usually with the background of the American flag. Ivan could barely stand it. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a full sized American flag hanging up on the wall of his bedroom, and maybe another standing in his office.

"I was going to make hamburgers! Homemade ones are the best. Better than most places that sell them at least. I hear there's a restaurant that's selling them for fifteen cents each in California! That's so cheap! I wonder if something like that will open here. Wouldn't that be great, Ivan?" Ivan winced as the American butchered the pronunciation of his name.

"Yes, it certainly would be something. It would also be something if you Americans would learn to say my name properly. I hate the way you all say it. 'Eye-van'. Disgusting. It's pronounced 'ee-vahn'. Open up your mouth when you pronounce the a." Ivan's accent came thick with his anger toward the American. Alfred furrowed his brows at the Russian, pronouncing the name properly for him. "Good. Now if you refer to me in that horrid American accent of yours again, I will not respond. Ты Понимаете? Ah, sorry. Do you understand?"

Alfred could only nod. He didn't know how else to respond. He turned to the kitchen to prepare the food as he searched his mind for what to do next, other than feed his guest. Ivan on the other hand, was able to make his way to the door. He tried the knob, locked. There had to be a way to get in there. If he could get a hold of the keys, or he could try to break the door. But what if there was a trap behind the door? He had to get the keys and be careful.

"So, you will be making hamburgers? I do not think I have ever had one." Ivan stated, striking up conversation once more.

"You've never had a hamburger before? You seriously must be a commie then!" Ivan's face darkened considerably, even though Alfred's voice held a joking tone. "Everyone here in the States has had a hamburger at least once in their life! I guess it's kind of like a rite of passage. I'll even make French fries to go with it too! Would you mind peeling the potatoes while I mix the meat?" Ivan nodded, reaching for the knife to peel potatoes the way he was taught in the Soviet Union. "Woah man, you use a knife? That's a bit dangerous, but so long as you don't hurt yourself, knock yourself out dude!" Alfred watched as he quickly made his way through the potato skin, used to seeing people use potato peelers, and he was slightly scared at the skill he had with the knife.

"How many potatoes should I peel?" Ivan said, having already found the potatoes. He swiftly peeled the one, moving on to the second within the minute.

"Uh, about three or four should be good." Alfred informed, not letting his eyes off of the knife as he mixed the seasonings throughout the ground beef. Ivan nodded, finishing up the second and reaching for a third.

"I might as well cut them as well since you'll be working on the meat. How should I cut them?" Alfred began forming the meat into thick, patty shapes.

"Haven't you ever seen fries before?" Ivan shook his head. Of course not; there aren't any in that God-less, commie land, Alfred thought. "Just slice them half an inch thick, then again the other way, half an inch thick. You'll get long little sticks; that's what we want, alright?"

"An inch" Ivan mumbled thoughtfully, recalling the conversion to centimeters. He sliced decisively, holding a slice up for Alfred's inspection. "Is this good?" Alfred gave a grunt of approval, and Ivan continued to slice. The meat patty was dropped into the grill-patterned pan. The sound of the searing meat made Ivan jump up and take a defensive stance. Alfred looked back at the crazed Russian with half a mind to take the knife from him. He pointed to the pan and Ivan relaxed. "Warn me next time." Alfred nodded, not liking how fast Ivan's reaction time is.

"Will do, big buy." He put the lid on the meat, filled the sink with water, and placed all the potatoes, now sliced, into the water to let them soak for a bit. Ivan stood near Alfred, looking for the proper time to take his keys without letting the American know he was onto him. Would his keys even be on his person? Ivan didn't know.

"Where may I put my coat? It's quite warm in your house, and I do not need it right now." Alfred pointed toward a closet, saying he can put it there as he dropped a handful of fries into a pot of oil and swapped out the cooked burger for a raw one. Ivan made his way to the closet, rummaging through the pockets of all the coats already in there. He pocketed a few scraps of paper he found. They will be examined later, but still no keys. He hung up his coat and looked around for Alfred's keys.

"Don't you want to take off your scarf too? If it's too hot for you, taking off your scarf would help." Ivan tensed.

"No. My scarf stays where it is, thank you."

"Alright, alright. No need to get so hostile buddy." Alfred fished out the cooked fries, placing them on the plate with a bun. "What do you want on your burger, man?"

Ivan's head whipped around to Alfred, eyes wide. He shrugged, "put what is normally on one. I wouldn't know what I want or don't want on it. I've never had one, remember?" Alfred nodded, turning to the fridge to get out the items. Ivan went back to looking for keys. If he couldn't find them soon, he'd have to break the door, and that's something he didn't want to risk.

"Alright, done with your food, now I have to finish up mine! It shouldn't take too long." Ivan gave a grunt of acknowledgement, looking around for the keys once more. He couldn't find them at all. They had to be on Alfred's person. Of course.

"Спасибо, ah, I mean, thank you." Ivan said as Alfred turned off the burners and plated his food. The two sat across from each other at the small dining table. It was just barely big enough for four people, one at each side.

Alfred nodded a 'you're welcome' as he swallowed what was in his mouth. "You seem to try your best not to slip into your native language while you're on the streets. That because you don't want to seem like a commie to anyone?" Ivan shook his head.

"I only mess up my languages when I am irritated or angry. I can think better in Russian, as I'm sure it's easier for you to think in English as opposed to Russian, as it's your first language. No, you do not speak English. English is for England. You speak something like a dialect. American English, yes? Entirely different." Alfred glared at him.

"You think you're just so smart, don't you? You think I haven't noticed you looking around my apartment, searching for something. I bet I know what you're searching for too. You're too obvious. You have to play dumb sometimes, act stupid. Let the opponent think you're not a challenge. That's how you beat them." Ivan stared at Alfred in disbelief. Had he been played this whole time? He stood up suddenly.

"Forgive me, but I must go. I cannot stay here." He made his way to his coat.

"So I was right. You were looking for a way into that door I closed. See, a normal person would have just asked. You're a fucking communist spy. That's why you didn't ask. Your self-reliant nature backfired on you this time, commie scum. Let's see how your boss deals with this." Alfred rubbed his victory in Ivan's face. He loved it.

Ivan put his coat on and turned back around to Alfred and grabbed him by his shirt collar. "Listen to me you capitalist pig. If I hear one more disgusting word out of that mouth of yours, I'm going to shove my fist in it. Ты Понимаете?" Alfred remained calm, smug even, but nodded none-the-less. "Good. I thank you for taking the time to make this for me, but I cannot stay here any longer." He walked out of the front door, down the steps, and into the subway to head back to his Bronx apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan needs to inform his superiors that he's been caught, but while he's waiting for a response, he starts to accept part of himself that's always been supressed.  
> \--  
> Relationship development mostly~

"He knows. He knows I am KGB.What should I do about this? This can be a great threat if left alone. We must do something." Words were hastily scribbled onto undeveloped film negatives. He had to get this message out. Then, he would be summoned to the embassy or someone would come to him from the embassy to to visit him personally. Part of him hoped it was the former option that was chosen. There was a slight less change he would be killed in the office, but one could never be sure. He rolled the film away, back into it's canister, and ran down the steps two at a time.

The doors to his building flew open as Ivan came tumbling out. He rolled quickly to his feet and took off running to the nearest subway station. Thankfully there wasn't a line this afternoon, and he was able to fish the proper coin from his pocket to pass the turnstile rather quickly. "Trains run nearly all the time here; I shouldn't have to wait too long for one to arrive," Ivan mentally noted as he made his way to the proper platform. Sure enough, the desired train didn't take long at all to show up. He boarded the train and relaxed as best he could in the hard chair and heavy mindset he was in.

After two and a half hours and a hectic transfer at the forty-second street station, he had missed the fourteenth street station, he was finally where he needed to be. Downtown Brooklyn, near the beach. The smell of the ocean water calmed him slightly as he delivered the canister. He almost carelessly tossed the film roll at the bottom of a trashcan. He dropped the sensor from his pocket to the base of the corresponding trash can on the next block over. He knew the impact of the sensor hitting the floor provides enough force to activate it, and send a signal to the USSR embassy to pick up. All that was left to do now was wait.

He made his way back to his house and practiced his saxophone for the show he was asked to preform that evening. He let his emotions, feelings, worries and everything else pour through his saxophone and out into the open air. He moved and swayed about his apartment, letting the music fill every corner of every room.

The doorbell rang, and Ivan's heart dropped.

It had to be the KGB coming to kill him for failing, for getting caught. His assignment was simple. Get information and don't get caught. He was working on the information part, but the USSR doesn't care for words, they want results. Ivan had no results. Ivan opened the door, expecting to be shot right there.

"Hey dude, you look like you just saw a ghost, all pale and sweaty like that." Alfred greeted cheerily. Ivan let out a breath. If the KGB didn't kill him, this American surely would.

"What are you doing here? How did you find out where I live? Why do you always manage to make me feel uncomfortable?" Oops, that last one wasn't supposed to be said aloud, but Ivan threw the questions at Alfred as soon as they entered his mind.

"I took the liberty of matching immigration records to your description. Roughly six feet tall, pale skin, platinum blond hair, dark blue eyes, and about maybe two hundred pounds." Alfred stalked closer and closer to Ivan with each sentence. "It took a bit of time since I was looking for a communist sounding name, but then I remembered you were announced with the name Brandonson." He picked up a matryoshka doll and started playing with it while he spoke. "I looked under Brandonson, and there you were. The thing was, there was no files on the family you loved talking about. No ex-KGB father working for the CIA, nothing. You came here alone, all by yourself. Want to tell me why you lied?" He stood with his stomach pressed against Ivan's saxophone, looking straight into his eyes. Capitalist-born sky-blue versus Communist-born blue-violet.

Ivan reached over and took the matryoshka from him, placing it back on the shelf. "You know why I am here. You know why I lied." Ivan worked the saxophone off from around his body.

"You know, I don't appreciate people who lie to me, and try to have a relationship with me." Ivan blushed.

"I was not trying to form a relationship with you." He stepped back a bit.

"So this whole friendship was for information? I mean nothing to you?" Ivan gave him a confused look. The word relationship meant dating, right? It could not be used for a simple friendship, could it? Ivan didn't know. Alfred shook his head and smiled softly. "I should've known better. You commies are nothing but dirty liars." He turned his head and spoke more to himself. "I should have reported you when I had the chance." He turned to leave, but Ivan grabbed his shoulder.

"I want to be friends. When you said relationship, I thought you meant dating. I want a friendship with you but I do not think we will be able to date. I believe it is forbidden. I have been taught that it's forbidden." Ivan looked down, refusing to accept his own sexuality.

Alfred half turned to look at the man who was confused with himself. "You're in America now. Nothing is forbidden here. You won't get arrested and wrongfully shot for doing what pleases you. There are no laws against this here. Society may look down upon it, but you will not be killed for it. This isn't that godless commie land you come from." Ivan glared slightly at the American man. "There, that's the commie I know! Now come on, I'm in your home, and I treated you to dinner yesterday, the least you can do is treat me."

"Da, I suppose I can, but I need to play at the jazz club again tonight. I do not trust a spy in my home, American or otherwise." Ivan responded playfully, finally being happy that he can accept this part of himself, but also forgetting his assignment for the moment.

"Well then, you better hurry with dinner so we can be out in time!" Alfred smiled widely, genuinely happy to have this volatile relationship start.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The KGB visit Ivan while Alfred visits the CIA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo- Oh my gosh thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the way their relationship progresses~

"Our dear agent Braginski left us another message." A figure in a suit help up the film roll as he spoke quickly in Russian.

"Oh yeah? What does this one say?" Another figure responded in the native tongue, leaning back on his chair.

"Let's find out, shall we?" The first one motioned to the back room, where a make-shift dark room resided. "Looks like he's been found out. The people back in Moscow aren't going to like this one bit." Both faces darkened."I guess we better contact them then."

"No. They'll kill him on the spot. Let's handle this ourselves."

"So we're keeping secrets from the head now?"

"You act like they don't keep secrets from us."

"Yes, yes, you're right. Let's pay him a personal visit then, as opposed to just mailing him the sensor like we normally do." He responded almost sarcastically as they headed out. An hour and a half later, they were knocking on Ivan's door, choosing to ignore his doorbell.

The abrupt, harsh and unexpected banding on his door startled Ivan and cased him to drop the butter knife he was using to spread his blackberry preserves onto his freshly-made blini. He sighed, tossed the knife into the sink, and opened the door.

"Yes? What is it thi- Aleksander? Vladim? What are you two doing here?" I am going to die. I am going to die. I am going to die. Ivan mentally chanted.

"We got your message." Vladim held up the film to emphasize his point. "Said you've been caught?"

"You're lucky we didn't notify Moscow yet, comrade." Aleksander let himself inside and picked up one of Ivan's Blini. "You see, they would have killed you right on the spot, Vanya." He took a bit of it.

"Yes, I am glad you did not notify them, but the question now is why didn't you notify them?" Ivan questioned as he moved aside to let in Vladim.

"Because you always have a way of getting the job done, no matter what is asked of you." Vladim said, looking over his apartment and moving toward the pipe in the corner of the room. "This is what we are asking of you; kill the one who suspects you, or we will kill you." He handed Ivan his pipe, knowing that was his weapon of choice. "Make sure it gets done. I want to see his obituary in the paper by next week." He made his way to the door to leave.

"Oh yeah! Here, your sensor. Almost forgot about it." Aleksander said, reaching into his picket to give him the sensor. "Figured since we were coming over, I'd give it back in person."

"Yeah, thanks." Ivan said dully, holding now his pipe in one hand and the sensor in another.

"See you later, comrade." Vladim stated as he closed the door behind him, leaving Ivan alone with his thoughts, duties and obligations.

Ivan slumped down into the nearest chair, lost in all of his feelings and thoughts. He now had to kill the man that helped him accept a part of who he was. He placed the sensor on the table as the pipe fell

from his hand, clanging loudly against the floor. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill the one person who accepted that part of him, so what else could he do? Defect? No. He loved his country too much, and he would surely die himself if he did. The higher ups in Moscow would display his head as a warning to others. So no defection. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. What else was there? Impersonation.

He could find and kill a different CIA agent. Aleksander and Vladim don't know who exactly is onto him, so any agent will do. This person would have to be a field agent and preferably one in a counter-spy unit. He grabbed a pen and a notebook, furiously scribbling down his thoughts before they left him. Once scribbled down in a satisfactory way, he grabbed one of his many blini and bit into it, only to find that this one hadn't been filled with his black berry preserves yet.

 

* * *

 

Alfred walked into the CIA building, showing his ID and passing through with a punch code. He stole a glance behind himself when heard rushed steps heading toward him. He turned around fully upon seeing who it was.

"Alfred! You're coming in today? I thought you were on field duty for the whole month?" Alfred smiled at the man.

"What? I can't come in once in a while to see my friends? So what's up, Brian? Anything change around here in the past few weeks?"

"Nothing really. Same old, same old." Brian shrugged as they made their way to the elevator. Alfred nodded, pressing the call button for the elevator. "What's new with you? How's it feel being in the field?"

The two stepped inside and pressed the number five button. "It gets kind of boring actually. I mean, other than doing the assignment, what else am I supposed to do. Your job is the same as mine. Counter-spy. We find and turn in those Russian commie bastards." Alfred shrugged, leaning against the wall.

"I figured it would feel more freeing than that. It's so boring working in the same room all the time." The two stepped out of the elevator.

"I can't take the CIA papers out of my house. It's not that great. I have to spend at least five hours a day outside and I can't bring my papers with me to work on them. It kinda sucks, dude." Brian nodded in understanding, following Alfred to his office.

"Yeah I understand what you're getting at." Brian continued following, even though the conversation stopped. He just wanted to see Alfred's face when-

"Brian," Alfred turned to face the man next to him. "Did you steal my chair again? Which closet is it in this time? Fucking asshole." He chuckled lightly, knowing it was all in good fun.

"I'm not telling you where it is!" Brian laughed loudly.

"Do you know many closets I have to check? At least tell me what floor it's on!" Alfred whined. This was going to be more than a friendly joke if Brian really made him check every closet in the building for his chair.

"It's on this floor." Brian smiled widely, just barely keeping from laughing wildly.

Alfred went off to the nearest closet, opening it as a slight distraction. He turned back to Brian to see where he was looking. Back-right. He closed the closet and headed in the direction he was looking. That's where his chair was. He found it rather quickly and wheeled it back to his desk, sticking his tongue out at Brian as he passed him. Brian huffed and crossed his arms, sitting at his own desk now.

Alfred sat at his desk and started organizing his paperwork for the files and archives.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan finds and meets his target, then completes his short-term assignment.

Ivan sat at a coffee house on the corner near the CIA office building. He waited and watched, novel in hand as he read and sipped at his tea.He made notes in his book about who went in, who went out and at what times.

"Would you like another cup of tea, sir? How about some sweets to go with it?" Ivan looked at the waitress with wide eyes, surprised that he didn't notice her. "I'm sorry, I startled you didn't I?" Ivan shoot his head to clear it.

"Yes, but all is fine. Another cup of tea would be wonderful." The waitress looked over at his book as she collected his cup and saucer.

"You're writing in your book? What even is that language? She asked innocently.

"It's Belorussian." He stated after some quick thoughts. The alphabet was was the closest he could think of. "It's a mystery novel. I like to figure things out as I read it. My family sent it to me. It's one of the few things they could get out with the strict regulations and low income." Ivan handled the book gently with redirected nostalgia. His sisters were still in the Soviet Union but the book was not from them. The waitress looked solemnly at Ivan and his book before taking his up to the back for more tea. The waitress game back with his cup and a few cookies.

"I don't know much about the Soviet Union or Bella-Russia, if it's even called that, but I can tell you that only Russia wants to be in the Soviet Union. I hope your family is safe, and I hope they can follow you here soon." Ivan nodded.

"It's Belarus, but yes. My family is safe, thank you." The waitress smiled, nodded and left. Ivan looked back at the book he had bought a few days ago, taking more notes, sipping at his tea and nibbling on his cookies.

Alfred was seen through the glass doors of the CIA building. Ivan stood up, payed for his tea and realized he had received too much change. The waitress told him that the cookies were free for him, and to give the money to his family. He smiled softly, thanking the waitress before hurrying off to Alfred.

When Ivan stepped out of the cafe, he looked both ways as if deciding which way to go before he crossed the street, heading toward the American. Brian stepped out from behind Alfred as they began walking side by side, chatting among themselves.Ivan smiled, forming a plan as he jogged a bit to catch up to them.

"Ivan! wasn't expecting to see you here!" Alfred said with a slight harshness. Ivan smiled as he panted.

"I was in the area, and I saw you, so I decided to say hello to you and your friend!" Alfred eyed him suspiciously, not believing the words from the Russian's mouth.

"Oh! That's nice of you. My name's Brian!" He naively stated to him. Brian held his right hand out for Ivan to shake as he held his briefcase tightly in his left hand. Ivan shook it happily. Alfred's face darkened slightly. Brian rubbed his hand on his backside upon withdrawing it. Alfred wanted to slap Brian for being so obvious.

"Yeah this is my _friend_ , Ivan. Alfred motioned to Ivan, resisting the urge to punch him and figure out his motives. "What were you even doing in this neck of the woods?" _What do you want, commie?_

"Ivan shrugged his shoulders, putting his hands in his pockets, He took the novel out from his left hand pocket. "I was just at the coffee house a little ways back, reading this." _Watching and waiting for you, greedy swine._

"Well, that was nice of you!" Brian was content after finding nothing wrong with his hand. "If we're all doing the same way, why not go together?"

"That is a great idea, Brian! Let's see how far we can travel together before we must split apart." Ivan smiled. Brian nodded. Alfred watched the two. The three started walking together down the street.

"So Ivan, what do you do for a living?" Brian asked, keeping Ivan on his right, away from the briefcase in his left hand, where Alfred walked, half guarding the case.

"Ah! I preform at jazz clubs in the evenings. You should come see one! Alfred likes when I preform." Ivan leaned forward, locking eyes with the said American and shooting him a playful wink.

"Yeah, he's pretty good. He plays the saxophone." Alfred blushed, looking away. Ivan took the opportunity to removed the sensor from his pocket, and slam it against his thigh before putting it away in his right pocket. He needed to activate it before he could use it the way he planned, and the extra cloth from his coat and pants were the perfect muffler. They walked in silence for a few minutes as Brian thought more about going to watch Ivan play.

Ivan placed himself in between the two, Brian on his right and Alfred on his left. He slug his arms over their shoulders. "You guys are right. I am in America now. I can do anything here. I can bring my sisters and we can all live happily, away from the terrors of the past." Alfred nodded, suspicion temporarily gone as Ivan seemingly embarrassed America. Brian was all too happy to hear it though, easily and foolishly eating up his words. Ivan held his head high, ashen blond hair swishing flamboyantly as he walked with new found vigor. He glanced toward Brian's pocket. Perfect chance. He put both hands back in his pockets for a couple steps until they reached the corner. "Ah, here is where I must depart." Ivan said, slipping the sensor into Brian's left pocket, motioning to the subway entrance with his other hand.

"Aww that's a shame. We should meet up again sometime!" Brian smiled as he spoke the words.

"Da! I mean, yes. We should meet up again." Ivan smiled, knowing exactly how soon he would meet Brian again.

"Oh, dude, no worries about correcting your Russian. We know you're excited about living life the American way and all but we understand Russian." Alfred stated cheerfully, waving to Ivan as he headed to the stairs. Alfred looked ahead to cross the street.

"Oh man, I'm not going that way." Brian's voice had a hint of fear in it.

"What? Why not?" Alfred looked to Brian, then back ahead to the crowd of people.

"My ex is in that mess, don't you see her? I'm crossing this way!" Brian turned on his heels, crossing the street the other way while he was still able. Alfred had to run to catch up.

"Dude, I didn't know you guys broke up? Tell me what happened!" Alfred's concerned voice made it easy for Brian to explain everything.

* * *

After a short subway ride, Ivan climbed up the steps nearest the USSR embassy. He ran inside as quickly as he could.

"I need to speak with Vladim and Aleksander!" Ivan yelled in Russian, slamming his hands down on the secretary's desk. The secretary jumped up, guiding him to the two men. "Vladim, Aleksander, where is the RADAR? I need to see it, now," he demanded. Vladim threw back his shot of vodka before getting up and guiding him to it.

"We will get you what ever you need just keep your voice down. You are valuable to us, as long as your job is being completed." The words were harsh but quiet. Vladim spoke them as he walked to a room hardly anyone used, due to it's constant chill. This room had very thin walls so the machine would work. "The device is here."

"Where is my sensor?" Ivan asked, looking at the black and green screen. "I planted it on the one who suspects me so I can find him later and kill him like you asked." Ivan growled harshly. Vladim looked at the screen.

"He is probably in the subway. The device cannot see the sensor when it is in the subway." Ivan nodded slightly, looking back at the screen as he waited for it to show up. Vladim offered Ivan a glass of vodka while he waited. Ivan took the glass and drank it quickly, any impurities being an afterthought.

Fifteen minutes later, the machine made a muffled sound. There was a small dot in the screen. "Vladim! It's there!" Ivan pointed to the screen.

"Good. Now we have to find where he is, yes?" Ivan nodded as Vladim brought out a map that looked like it was printed on tracing paper. "Now, we line this up with the screen. The embassy is here, so that goes on the center, so your sensor is here, in Astoria, Queens." Ivan wrote down the address from the map before storming out an heading to his home to get his pipe.

* * *

Brian opened the door to his home, setting down his briefcase and putting his keys in the bowl next to the door. He put his hands in his pockets, seeing if there was anything else that needed to be put away. His right pocket was empty but his left, there was something odd in there. He pulled it out to see a small rectangular metal box with rounded corners and a small blinking red light. He put it to his ear, no ticking. So it wasn't a bomb, but then, what was it? How did it get into his pocket? He turned it over, looking for screws to take out. None. But then how was it put together? How was it turned off? Was the light forever blinking? No, the battery would run out eventually. He left it next to the bowl, deciding to investigate it after dinner. He looked at his kitchen, and quickly went about making a submarine style sandwich for himself.

About an hour later, Brian was almost finished eating his sandwich and, Ivan was just getting off the subway train. His pipe held snugly close to him in it's special pocket in his coat. He needed to stand the whole time on the train, but he didn't mind, if it meant not being found out. He walked up the stairs as he looked at the address on the paper again real quick. He was close. The sun was set, and he saw the apartment with it's lights on. He walked up the steps to the home.

Ivan opened the door, knowing already that it was unlocked upon seeing Brian's trusting nature earlier that day. Brian was over engaged in watching a show on the television that Ivan couldn't be bothered to recognize. Brian was leaning forward in his sofa, being sucked into the screen. Ivan resisted the urge to scoff as he realized the perfect opening in front of him. He stood quietly behind Brian, removing the pipe from his coat. Ivan was trained on the man in front of him, jumping back a bit when something on the screen made Brian flop back with an exasperated sigh.

Ivan focused on Brian once more, not moving a muscle until he knew it was safe. Brian leaned forward once more, absorbed in his program. Ivan readied his pipe, placing his gloved hands on either end, bracing for the force required. He swung the pipe down, over Brian's head, and latched it onto his throat. Brian's neck was caught between the pipe and Ivan's chest as he was lifted off of the couch. He kicked his legs and pulled at the pipe, trying his best to breathe again, but Ivan was having none of it. Ivan only held the pipe tighter on Brian's bruising neck, moving back and pressing his back against the nearest wall.

Brian's hands started to slip off of the pipe, and his legs lost their energy. Ivan's chest rose and fell with his labored breaths as he counted five seconds in his mind. He released Brian when he finished counting, watching as he fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. It was less than half a minute of effort, but it was a lot to ask from Ivan's body. He's not used to burst labors like this. The next part would be easier. He put his pipe away, then hefted Brian up onto one of his broad shoulders. Ivan let out a small huff as he headed toward the back door. He looked around, spotting a pool in the house next to the one he was in now. He smiled, bringing the unconscious man to the fence separating the two yards. He threw the limp man over the fence, before hopping over it himself.

Ivan brought the man to the pool, lowering him in slowly head first to avoid a splash. Brian was still breathing, so putting him in the pool would cause water to flood his lungs as his oxygen starved brain forced him to breathe. Ivan lowered him down to just above his feet, where Ivan let the man go all together. He swiped his hands together as he stood straight. Task completed. He hopped back over the fence, turned off the light and television, and left. He locked Brian's front door as he left, heading back to the subway station, feeling confident that he couldn't be tied to the murder.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred addresses the office about Brian's death, then visits Ivan.  
> Ivan realizes something important, then runs into Alfred.  
> \--There's a bit more swearing in this chapter than the others.--

Alfred was woken up from his bed by the phone out in the living room. He groaned groggily, quietly getting up out of the bed. He pulled down the ends of his night shorts as he walked. He wiped his face with his hand as he picked up the receiver. "Hello?" He stated tiredly.

"Alfred, I'm going to need you to come in today. It's about something that happened yesterday." It was his boss. Alfred instantly felt more awake as he heard his voice.

"Is this about the information I filed? It got processed already?" Alfred's voice was more hopeful this time.

"Yes, Alfred, it did. This is the Cold War, remember? But no, it's not about that. It's something much more personal. I'm addressing everyone on the floor about this. I'm calling in every field agent I have as well." Alfred understood this was much more serious than he could have imagined if he was calling everyone in.

"Alright. I'll be there."

"Thanks."

The line went dead. Alfred put the receiver back on the hook, then headed toward the bathroom to start his daily routine.

About two hours later, he was standing in front of his boss with along with the rest of his co-workers. Everyone was here, the secretaries, the field agents, the desk workers, the file managers, and everyone else. He didn't know everyone's job, but he could put a face to a department. His boss spoke finally.

"I was notified that one of our own was murdered last night. He was found late last night. A woman went into her backyard, wanting a late night soak her in her pool, when she discovered Brian's body there. He had drowned. We don't know yet who did this, whether it was the woman or someone else in the house, but we know it was no accident. There was bruising on his neck, indicating that he had been strangled before dumped in the pool. We're looking more into it now, but there isn't much to go on." People gasped as the words fell from the boss's lips people questioning each other on who could do such a thing, such a bold move. Who had the audacity to kill a CIA agent. The boss pulled Alfred toward himself. "Alfred, I want to take you out of the field." His boss spoke quietly, but Alfred was less quiet.

"Why? Because of Brian? That's some fucking bullshit. I worked hard to be a field, agent and I'm not going to let you take that away from me. I'm doing my job and in doing my job I have found that you didn't even like Brian!" He turned to the small crowd of employees behind him "In fact, none of you liked him! You all hated him! How many of you here are actually kind of glad he's gone?" Alfred started yelling in anger now. "I should see every one of your disgusting, lying hands in the air because I know every single one of you hated him! I was the only one who saw potential in him!" Alfred took a few deep breaths to calm him.

"There's this thing I live by. It goes something like Let the enemy think you're dumber than you are, so you have the element of surprise. That's what I am currently doing and have been doing with this one person I suspect as of right now. He thinks I'm fucking useless, that I can't do shit, but I have shown him time and time again that I am a much better spy than he thinks. I have proved to him that I am better than him. Brian was the same way. Brian always played dumb so he was ready to turn on any of you. He was the perfect private investigator and I was grooming him to be a mole hunter here in the CIA. I am not going to give up on this because of that. Brian was a horrible thing, yes, and it was no accident, yes, but I believe the person who killed Brian may have known this. I believe the person who killed Brian may be right in this very room. I will find out who did it, and when I do, you will be sorry." Alfred stormed out of the office, headed to his Russian 'friend's' house.

* * *

 

Ivan woke up that same morning feeling rather proud of himself. He got up, went through his morning routine, and got dressed to head to the market today. He wanted a special dinner for completing his task yesterday. He reached into his pocket to feel for the cool, small metal box. It wasn't there. He reached into his other pocket. Not there either. Ivan started to panic now. Where was his sensor? He didn't, he couldn't have, did he leave it at Brian's house? There was only one thing to do. He headed to the subway to check Brian's house for his sensor.

He was anxious the entire ride. He had locked the door, how was he going to get back in there? The back door was unlocked, but he would have to hop the fence in broad daylight. That wasn't a very smart idea. How could he have been so stupid as to leave it there. He couldn't forgive himself for this. He ran up the stairs and to Brian's house. There were CIA and FBI agents there.

"Ебаный дерьмо." The Russian swear slipped out quietly from Ivan's mouth as he saw the people going in and out of Brian's house. He knew the sensor was long gone by now. He headed back to the subway. He needed to get the KGB to cut off the signal. He didn't even know if they had that ability in the office. He had to try though. He had to do something.

When Ivan walked into the USSR embassy, he didn't even bother with the secretary, remembering where Aleksander and Vladim were. The secretary tried to stop him from going in but Ivan was already standing in front of the two. Vladim waved the secretary off as the three sat around a coffee table.

"Vanya, what brings you here today?" Aleksander said in casual Russian.

"Aleksander. Vladim. The sensor, I left it at the man's house. We need to cut the signal or something." Ivan's voice was slightly panicked. He didn't know how the two would react. This was a huge mistake.

"Ivan. There is only one way to cut the signal. That sensor was designed for you, so only you can do it." Vladim spoke seriously. Ivan nodded, waiting to hear how to do it. "You must break it with your pipe. Only your strength can do this. We are but small desk workers. We cannot break it. So you must find it, and either break it or recover it."

"They already have the sensor though. I cannot get to it since you had me kill my only way into the CIA, I can't get it." Ivan glared at the smaller Russian.

"Vanya, Vanya, relax. We were only looking out for you. If we told Moscow, you would have been dead by now. You're on borrowed time now. Our borrowed time." Aleksander leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Look, Sasha, I didn't ask for you to help me in that way. I did what you asked; I am no longer suspected. I am not in your debt." Ivan's words were harsh. "Now for you Vadik, I will do what I believe is right. I came here to see if you can shut it off. If you cannot, then I am done here." Ivan stood, heading toward the door. The two shorter men watched as he left, shrugging and letting him do what he wants.

* * *

Alfred headed up the stairs of the subway, the ride having calmed him down some. His mind was blank as he walked toward Ivan's house. He couldn't afford to think of anything. He needed to keep his mind clear. Maybe he could get Ivan to play the saxophone for him to calm him down. He shook his head, knowing exactly who it was that killed Brian. He didn't want to admit it, but he was partially to blame. He had known Ivan, and he didn't report him. If he did, Brian would still be alive. He knew he would. He knocked on the door to the Russian's apartment. Ivan sighed heavily, going over to open it.

"Да? Чт- Oh. Alfred, what brings you here?" Alfred smiled at the broken Russian word Ivan stated.

"Expecting someone else?" Alfred said smugly. "One of your Russian KGB friends?"

"Russian, yes. KGB, no." Ivan lied. "I was expecting someone to come by to give me letters from my sisters." Alfred nodded.

"I know you killed Brian." Alfred stated bluntly. Ivan's brows twitched slightly.

"What makes you say that?" Ivan questioned, accent slightly heavier now.

"He died the night you met him. I know it was you. There's no point in trying to hide it." Alfred stepped closer to the window, eyeing the pipe in the corner of the room. "This what you used to strangle him with?" He nodded his head toward it as he looked back at Ivan.

"Yes." Ivan's voice was small and hesitant as he answered.

"Then you dropped him into the pool next door. He drowned." Ivan nodded. Alfred walked closer to the tall Russian, their heights almost matching. "You killed him. You have his blood on your hands. You will not get away with this."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Alyushka." Alfred grimaced as his name was said in that way.

"Don't be so fucking smug. Don't call me that fucking commie name. I'm not one of your commie fuck boys, okay? My name is Alfred. Only fucking Alfred. Not Al-you-whatever. Al-fucking-fred."

"It is a nickname. Your name in Russian is still Alfred." Ivan clarified.

"I don't give a flying fuck. I'm not sitting here calling you Ivy as you just fucking killed my best friend now am I? You don't get to call me that commie bullshit while you go around killing people." It was Ivan's turn to grimace at what he was called. He understood the similarities now.

"Yes, yes, I understand now. I will not call you by little Russian pet names," Ivan promised. Alfred nodded, accepting the promise. "Would you like something to eat? I doubt you are going to go back to work today."

"No, I'm not going to work, but I'm not hungry right now. I'm too angry at you. I'm too angry at myself." Alfred finished softly.

"At yourself? Alfred, there is no reason to be bad at yourself. This was my doing. I was following orders. I decided to follow the orders." Ivan stepped closer to Alfred, hugging him softly.

"You were supposed to kill me, weren't you?" Alfred stated blankly. Ivan wrapped his arms tighter around the American. "You saw the both of us walk out of the CIA together. You were supposed to kill me but you couldn't, so you somehow got to Brian and killed him." Ivan leaned his head down into Alfred's neck, nodding to confirm Alfred's suspicions. "Do they still want me dead?"

"No. They didn't know who exactly was suspecting me of being KGB, so they are sedated for now." Ivan spoke softly.

"So Brian's death was not in vain. That's kind of good to know." Alfred wrapped his arms around Ivan, now knowing that he was only trying to protect him. "Thank you Ivy." Ivan shook his head.

"Do not call me 'Ivy'. It sounds terrible. Call me Vanya." Ivan took his head away from Alfred's neck, looking Alfred in his sky blue eyes. "You do not want me to call you Alyushka, so what is your nickname?"

"You can call me Al if you like." Ivan nodded, slowly moving his head toward Alfred's, leaning in for a kiss. Alfred met him, wanting the same from him. The two locked lips for a long but chaste kiss. Alfred was first to pull back, looking up into Ivan's eyes, now seeming more purple than dark blue. Ivan smiled resting his head back in Alfred's neck, letting the worries of the missing sensor be melted away. Alfred gently rubbed Ivan's back, letting his anger toward the death of Brian and his confusing feelings toward the Russian man in his arms be released with the gentle touches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ебаный дерьмо. - Fucking shit.   
> Да? Чт- - Yes? Wha-


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred and Ivan get drunk and have sex, effectively forgetting all about their duties as spies.

Alfred's cowlick brushed against Ivan's nose, making him blush at the soft contact. Alfred glanced softly up at Russian violet-blue eyes.

"You wouldn't happen to have Four Roses brand bourbon whiskey around here would you? It's imported from Kentucky, where the all-American drink was born." Alfred pushed himself away from the Russian man to peer into his cupboards, and to distract himself from the many things roaming through his mind.

"I have vodka." Ivan stated bluntly, following behind the American, closing the cupboards after him and wondering what the hell he was up to.

"Oh look, found the vodka!" Alfred picked up one of the many bottles with many different labels. "Let's just do shots of this then, alright?" Ivan nodded, grabbing two regular drinking glasses. "Russian shots it is I guess." Alfred laughed.

"If you want vodka, you will drink, not taste."

"Yep fair enough, fair enough." Alfred pored the vodka as if it were water, and Ivan drank it as such, relishing in the numbing burn that his throat felt. Alfred could only watch in awe as he downed the vodka. He could do the same with his bourbon, but he never thought there would be another who would be able to drink alcohol like water. He smirked and silently challenged himself to drink it like Ivan had done. He started to swallow the clear liquid and instantly regretted the decision.

"Whoa there! That's strong. Alright, we need to get you some bourbon if I'm going to be here like this." Ivan nodded in agreement, feeling a slight effect from the vodka in his system. He lead the way to the nearest liquor store where he allowed Alfred to pick out the bourbon. Ivan had insisted to pay and soon they were both back at Ivan's apartment. "Alright, commie, drink some of this." Alfred pored two glasses of bourbon, handed one to Ivan and the two drank it together.

"That is strong. I did not think there would be something this strong in this greedy nation. I thought everything would be watered down to maximize profit. Seems like the vodka is that way." Ivan rambled slightly.

"This isn't even this strong, but it sure is good." Alfred smiled at the translucent brown liquid. "Well, you drink the bourbon, and I'll drink the vodka, alright?" Alfred smiled, poring the vodka from both glasses into his. He did the same with the bourbon for Ivan.

"We will both die of alcohol poisoning tonight, and we will enjoy every last minute of it." Ivan raised his glass for a toast as he spoke. Alfred agreed, saiyng a cheers before clinking them together. They both threw back their drinks as fast as possible, not wanting the other to finish first. Ivan chucked slightly and started speaking in a thicker accent, his English breaking slightly from the alcohol in his system. "You know, I have been thinking a lot about what you were saying to me. It made me realize something. I have these strange feelings when I am think of you. It is making me do things I would not normally do. I make sure you are kept secret from KGB. And I know you are making sure I am kept secret from CIA." Ivan held his head. "Why are we doing these things? It is not helping us in the end." Alfred nodded.

"I think I know what's goin' on here. I think you are lovin' me." Alfred smiled smugly at the Russian.

"Что? You think, я тебя люьлю? Silly, filthy American. Нет, тебя люьит меня." Ivan stated with a smug grin.

"What? You think I love you? You're a fuckin' commie bastard as far as I know!" Alfred laughed loudly, making Ivan smile. "You know what, why don't we just show each other how much we love each other?" Alfred had a vague idea where this would be leading. They both stood up, watching each other. Alfred made the first move, going through the cabinets in the kitchen. Ivan watched him, wondering what he was looking for. "Ah ha! Found it!" Alfred stood up suddenly, making Ivan falter back, grabbing one of the bottles on the table as a weapon. "Whoa, relax dude. It's just your vegetable oil."

"Почему у тебя ест что?" Ivan stated as he leaned against the table the two were once seated at to keep his balance.

"We're going to need it if you want me to show you just how much I love you, right?" Ivan eyed the man suspiciously. "Just trust me Vanya!" Alfred smiled innocently at Ivan. Alfred went off in search for a bedroom and found it just to the right of the living room. Alfred made his way to the bed, putting the oil on the nightstand, kicking off his shoes and sitting on the bed."Com'ere big boy." Alfred taunted, using his index finder to motion Ivan toward him. Ivan moved toward him, standing in front of Alfred. Ivan blushed and looked away as he began to speak.

"I have only been intimate with one woman before. I do not know how this is supposed to work."

"That's alright big guy. I've made a few men feel better than they could with any woman. That's what the oil's for." Ivan looked toward the object that the American mentioned. Alfred stood up, removing his short and grabbing the bottle from the night stand.

"Lay down on your tummy. This'll feel weird, but trust me."

"You say those words like I will be so quick to trust you." Alfred scoffed at the Russian's words. Ivan looked at his newly vacated bed, and rested himself in it. "I will do ask you ask, just for tonight and within reason."

"I wouldn't ask anything of you that would be out of reason." Alfred leaned over the man and worked on removing his pants. Ivan's hands shot down to his waist, trying to stop Alfred. "Hey, knock that off. I'll make you feel good. It'll hurt a bit at first, but you'll like it in the end." The alcohol in Ivan's system made it seem like more of a good idea than it actually was. He didn't know why he did, but he nodded and let Alfred continue on what he was doing.

Alfred successfully removed Ivan's pants and shoes. He reached to the bottom of Ivan's loose fitting boxers, grabbing both let holes at once, and tugged harshly on them. They came down quickly, before Ivan was able to stop him, and were carelessly tossed on top of his pants.

"Что Делаеш, ёб твою мать?" Ivan yelled loudly at the laughing American. Ivan rolled himself over, sitting up and nearly punching him in the face. Alfred calmed down enough for a response.

"Your reaction was priceless! Ah, that was great." He glanced down. "That's an awful lot to work with there." He grabbed Ivan's softening cock, stroking it slowly, paying attention to the head with his caresses to make it hard again. "You'll know what I'm about to do. Just relax and I'll make you feel nice. This is the way things work between two men." Ivan was skeptical, but he believed Alfred. Alfred took the end of Ivan's scarf and draped it across his eyes. "Deep breaths, big boy. I need you to trust me. I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you." Ivan nodded, and Alfred began.

He covered his hand in the oil, making sure his first few fingers were especially covered in the viscous fluid. He used his hand as a make shift funnel so his partner's hole would be covered in the fluid as well. Ivan shivered at the feeling of the cold oil going down his butt.

Alfred slid his hand along the trail the oil left, making sure not to startle the nearly six foot Russian man in front of him. He pressed softly at first against the puckered flesh.

"Let me know if it hurts." Ivan nodded in reply.

Alfred pushed harder against Ivan's hole. His finger slowly slid in, Alfred groaned slightly at the feeling of Ivan tightening around it. He couldn't wait to get his own cock in there. Alfred shook his head and wiggled his finger around, getting the space ready for a second. Ivan was holding back the sounds his body wanted to make. He thought it as a sign of weakness and it could not be showed to Alfred.

Alfred got the second finger in Ivan and started scissoring them, adding more oil as needed. Ivan couldn't stop the moan as the cold oil slipped into his warm hole. It was unlike anything he ever felt. Alfred smiled and pored the oil onto his penis, letting the extra drip again into Ivan's hold to hear the wonderful sounds from him again.

Alfred removed his fingers and started to press the head into the hole of his partner. the head went in with little effort. Alfred slowly pushed more of himself in when Ivan's hand went to Alfred's stomach as a sign to stop. He remained still as Ivan caught his breath. It was a hard decision for him to make, to tell Alfred to stop and who that he was hurt. He decided it was easier to get Alfred to stop than to explain this to the hospital or worse, the KGB agents who managed him. Ivan's hand soon dropped and Alfred pushed in again, making his way to the hilt of his member. Alfred wasted little time, and got right to shallowly moving inside him.

Ivan was having a hard time keeping himself quiet as Alfred's movements increased in pace and in roughness. He tore the scarf off of his face, and reveled in the sight he was greeted with. Ivan reached up, pulling Alfred down and directing him to his neck. Alfred pleased Ivan with kisses and messy licks around Ivan's scarred neck. Ivan moaned louder as his erogenous zone was indulged.

Alfred reached between their sweating bodies to stroke Ivan's cock again. The sensations going through his body at that moment were all too much. Ivan clenched tight around Alfred and let himself release against their stomachs. Feeling him so tight around him, Alfred let himself go inside of Ivan. Alfred finished with a couple shallow thrusts inside of Ivan, pulling himself out of him soon after. Alfred collapsed next to Ivan, breathing heavily along side him.

"I told you I would make you feel good." Alfred said breathlessly.

"Да, but you used most of my oil." Ivan looked at the bottle left on the floor.

"I may have, but it would have hurt otherwise." Ivan nodded, accepting it as the only way. "We should sleep. I'm pretty tired. G'night Vanya."

"Да, I am tired as well. Спакойтай ночи, Al." Ivan nodded, falling asleep next to his American partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Да. - Yes.  
> Что? You think, я тебя люьлю? Silly, filthy American. Нет, тебя люьит меня. - What? You think, I love you? Silly filthy American. No, you love me.  
> Почему у тебя ест что? - Why do you have that?  
> Что Делаеш, ёб твою мать? - What are you doing, mother fucker?  
> Спакойтай ночи. - Good night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The KGB visit Ivan's house before Alfred gets a chance to leave.

Ivan woke up, holding his head and wondering why his bed was warmer than normal. He opened his eyes and remembered everything as his eyes landed on a head of golden blond hair. The CIA agent he had been working so hard to get information out of had been his lover for the night. How did this happen? Carefully, he moved himself out of the bed without waking up the American next to him. He pulled his pants up, grabbed the oddly placed bottle of oil from the nightstand and left Alfred sleeping alone in his bed.

In the kitchen, the memories came back to him with the sight of the bottles of alcohol on the table. He simply groaned at the memories and put them in the cabinet with the oil and the rest of the alcohol, not needing to make the old tale of binge drinking come true. Ivan turned toward his fridge, taking out the jar of pickles. He opened it up, placed the lid on the top to prevent the pickles themselves from falling out as he drank the juice from the jar. A couple nice mouthfuls of the sour liquid passed through him before he decided it was enough, and started to eat some bread.

"Ow dude, what the fuck. How do you people drink that shit like nothing. My head is pounding." Alfred slowly walked into the kitchen, step by agonizing step. Ivan pushed some bread into his hand.

"We are used to it; in Soviet Union, there is even special hangover meal. I am not making it. Eat the bread, it will help you." Ivan spoke in a low, groggy yet demanding tone. He finished up his bread and sliding the pickle jar toward Alfred. "Have some of this too, it will help it go away faster." Alfred shrugged and placed a pickle on his bread, eating it like a sandwich.

"Do you have any sandwich meat or somethin'? This feels weird. Is this all you commies get to eat over there in the mother land? Pickles and bread?" Ivan made a face at the American's words and silently dropped a package of sliced ham in front of him.

"That is what I have. Do what you will." Alfred unceremoniously tore into the package tossed in front of him. Ivan scoffed "Как Сбинья."

"Shut it." Alfred tried to sound intimidating with his mouth full of his American-ized sandwich.

"Oh how am I to do that when you are proving me right? Don't speak with your mouth full, and I'll think about not calling you a pig."

"Oh yeah? Why don't you take a seat? Hm? Oh you can't. The power of my American dick was too much for you last night. Shows who's the real winner here." The Russian blushed at Alfred's words.

"This conflict runs much deeper than you could ever reach inside me. How about I show you now deep this conflict is tonight, yes?" Ivan leaned forward and quirked an eyebrow as Alfred paled. He had seen the full girth of Ivan's package and did not want to be on the receiving end.

"Only if you want to end up using the rest of your oil." Alfred hoped that would keep him at bay. Ivan shook his head.

"I need to buy a new one anyway. I will probably be using the last of that in my soup toni-"

_Knock knock knock._

Shit.

Alfred looked toward Ivan who put his finger to his mouth in a shushing gesture. He nudged Alfred to the bedroom and hid him in the closet there.

"I have feeling is KGB. Hide in here. I will try to make them leave as fast as possible." Ivan closed the door to the small room, effectively trapping the American in darkness. Alfred looked to the sandwich still in his hands and started picking at the bread.

Ivan opened the door, greeting the two men in their native, Russian tongue.

"Took a bit longer than usually today, Vanya." Vladim glared accusingly at the taller man. "Care to tell me why?" Ivan paled slightly.

"I just finished eating in the kitchen." Aleksander casually stepped into the mentioned space, nodding at the pickle jar and ham package.

"Seems like someone had a fun night last night." Aleksander accused, holding up the pickle jar.

"Yes, but I do not make a habit of it. I try to keep my mind clear."

"That good, as you a key part in the KGB's plan." Ivan sighed at Aleksander's words, looking toward his bedroom. Vladim caught the glance, looked at Aleksander, and nodded toward the bedroom. Aleksander understood the unspoken command and followed Vladim into the bedroom.

Alfred was able to see the people from the crack between the door and the wall. "One, short, dark brown hair, ice blue eyes. Two, as tall as I am, bald, same ice blue eyes. They're both shorter than Ivan though. Does everyone in Russia have piercing eyes?" Alfred mentally noted as they passed. They were speaking quickly as they passed him. He leaned back softly against the clothes, closing his eyes and focusing on understanding the conversation.

"Why are we in my bedroom?" Ivan. Alfred recognized the voice, and this was Ivan's bedroom he was in.

"Because you gave yourself away, Vanya." Alfred moved to the crack again to see who was speaking. "You looked this way and we caught it." The taller one.

"Yes, Sasha here is correct." Sasha. It has to be a nickname, but of what? Alfred tried to continue listening. "So we're trying to find what you're hiding in here now." Fucking Christ nuggets. They knew he was there.

"There is nothing. My head is hurting, and I wish you would leave so I can rest. That's why I was looking toward my bed. I have a longing to sleep." Ivan defended.

"Yes, yes, a nap is good for a hangover. We'll be on our way, but there's a problem with the assignment we had you carry out." Alfred knew these two wanted him dead, but Ivan had killed Brian in his place. They should be satisfied.

"You see, the person you killed looked nothing like the person I remember seeing you with in the cafe a week ago." Sasha spoke this time. Alfred had noticed Ivan looking at the man with the book, using a strange box to hold his place when his tea arrived, and he knew that he was working with Ivan somehow, but he didn't expect it to be in this way. "When Vadik here showed me the man's picture in the news paper's obituary, I knew he wasn't the same man. The man you killed had dark brown hair, a squared off face, brown eyes, he looked average. The man you were assigned to kill, was not average. He had blond hair, blue eyes, glasses and a strange lock of hair that would not stay down."

"That man is a friend of mine. He was introduced to me by the letter carrier." Ivan hoped his lie held up.

"Say what you will, Ivan, but know that you cannot be suspected. If you are found out, you are dead. Pick what you will, say what you will, but know that this is all up to you. The КГБ указ may have only been enacted two years ago, but we are organized and we are swift when it comes to discipline. It's either death, or imprisonment in the gulag." The shorter one, Vadik, lead the taller ones out they way they came in. He must be in charge.

"Yes. I am aware. Thank you." Ivan led the two out and locked the door behind them. He turned his back to the door and slumped against it, sliding down until he was seated on the floor. Alfred came out, confident that the men had left, and sat next to the Russian, draping an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

"How about we make that hangover soup. We both could use it, hm?" Ivan looked up at the smiling American, nodding softly to his suggestion.

"We will need lamb meat. I do not know what it's called in English."

"Mutton. It's called mutton." Alfred clarified, standing up and retrieving their clothes from under the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Как Свинья - Such a pig.  
> КГБ указ (ukaz) - KGB executive order kind of? An ukaz is like a decree but more specific. It created the KGB in March of 1954  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan and Alfred devise a plan where they both survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> danielacolddreams: I appreciate the fact that you like that I'm writing the Russian out. It helps since I'm trying to learn the language as well. Thank you so much for your support.  
> \--  
> This chapter is a bit shorter than normal. I didn't want to put too much into it and stress myself about finishing the scene at a decent length.

Alfred placed a bag on the table with the mutton on the table, looking over toward where Ivan was adding spices and other seasonings into a bot of water. Ivan looked over toward the door that Alfred had let himself in through, using Ivan's keys.

"Ah you have perfect timing! I need the lamb now." Ivan reached into the bag, taking the meat out of the packaging. Alfred smiled at how domestic this all seemed to him, almost as if they weren't on opposing sides of an intellectual war. He shook his head slightly to clear his head a bit.

"Dude, don't say lamb; call it mutton. It makes it seem like we're boiling a small animal alive when you say lamb." Ivan looked at him with a slight bit of Confusion on his face, but nodded all the same.

"I will try my best, любить." Ivan tried to distract himself as much as possible, but the preparations were done. He put the meat in the pot, put the lid on it and turned the stove on to let it boil for a dreaded six hours.

"So the KGB know you didn't kill me." Alfred brought up the one thing Ivan was trying to avoid.

Ivan made a small noise of confirmation. "I do not know what I should be doing now. I am sure you know I don't want to kill you." Ivan kept his face toward the pot, not having the will to face the American who had done so much for him. "If I don't kill you, I will die."

Alfred stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning into the counter with his lower back. Ivan glanced at him to see why he wasn't speaking. Alfred had his eyes closed behind his glasses, and his head down in thought. Ivan shuffled nervously on his feet. Would was he thinking about? He pulled his scarf over his mouth more, wishing he had remembered to put on a shirt after the KGB agents left.

Alfred's head shot up with realization. "What if I staged my death? That might work! We can make it seem like you killed me, I'm in the CIA so I can have them run the obituary in the paper for the KGB and everything!" Ivan took his turn to think about the plan.

He shook his head. "That will not work. You are a very noticeable and flamboyant man. You'd have to live in secret for the rest of your life. What if you make a big breakthrough? You would not be able to take credit for your work. I am sure that you would not like that. You would like your name to go down in history, yes? You cannot do that if you are dead." Alfred nodded in agreement.

"It's sweet that you think I'd make a breakthrough discovery, Vanya!" Alfred tried to brighten the mood.

"You are smart and charismatic. I would not put it past you to be able to get information out of someone peacefully. That in itself is news-worthy." Ivan smiled softly, going back to thinking of a plan.

Ivan spoke softly and slowly. "What if I were to defect?"

Alfred looked at him, his face colored with shock. "But won't the KGB hurt your family if you do that?"

"Yes. So we must get them out of there as soon as possible. My two sisters, I need them here before I will give you any information." Alfred nodded, nearly running out of the house. "Wait!" Alfred looked back at Ivan. "I will be needed a new place to live. The KGB know about his place. They know I live here and if they find out that I defected, they will come here first." The look in Alfred's eyes was serious as he nodded with determination.

"I'll make sure you get a new place to live, even if that means you will have to live with me." Ivan nodded, tending back to his soup as Alfred headed to the CIA office.

* * *

Alfred walked into the CIA building nearly an hour and a half after he left Ivan's house.

"Where the hell were you? Do you know worried you had us all? We all thought you were as good as dead!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Sanders, fucking girly ass name. Why the fuck are you even called Deborah?" Alfred pushed pass his boss, turning around slightly to yell at him some more. "I'm sure you only mean yourself when you say 'we all', asshole." He turned forward again, making his way to the Head Chairman's office. "Alright, Vanderhall, I got a guy who's willing to defect but we need to get his sisters here and into a home before he tells us anything. This is the lowest price I could get from him."

"Will this man be of any use to us?" Vanderhall leaned forward on his desk, placing his elbows upon it and his head in his hands.

"Totally, he claims to be a high ranking KGB officer. I'm he can be of great use to us." Vanderhall nodded, collecting papers and filling them out.

"I need you and the prospective informant to fill these out. You will be in charge of housing him and his sisters. I hope you don't fuck this up, Jones."

Alfred smiled widely, gathering the papers and turning to leave. He looked back over his shoulder at the head, "When do I ever fuck things up?" He said slyly. He went to his desk, grabbed a folder for the papers, and went back to Ivan's house to fill them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> любить-love


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sensor is still transmitting, and Ivan goes to the CIA to finalize his defection agreement and get his sensor.

Vladim sat at the desk, in front of the RADAR screen. Ivan said the CIA has the sensor now. This was vital information that the KGB needed to know. He marked the area on the map with a red marker.

"Comrade Sasha, we have the location of the CIA." He stated smugly.

"Yes, this is good, but we are not allowed to go there. The CIA does not allow Soviet ambassador in the building." Aleksander was not sure where Vladim was going with this.

"We may not be allowed in, but they give tours, yes? They must make money, it's America. Our little comrade Braginsky will be able to go in."

"Yes, that's a good idea, but what happens when the people notice Ivan is missing. He is tall and Russian, he is bound to be noticed."

"This is why we instruct him to get his little CIA friend to do the dirty work for us. If his CIA friend does not know that he is with us, it will be perfect."

"And if the CIA man does know?"

Vladim shook his head. "Then Ivan will be detained as soon as he walks in there, in which case he will be lost to us."

"Vadik, do you think this will work?"

"I think it will."

"Let's visit him then." The two nodded and left with the intent of informing Ivan with his next mission.

An hour later, the pair of agents showed up at Ivan's door and quickly explained the plan to him, answering all questions before Ivan even asked them. Ivan sighed and nodded, knowing he's basically forced to accept the plan, no matter how bad it is. They left just as abruptly as they came, leaving Ivan alone once again.

Ivan got up lazily. He got dressed, and headed to Alfred's apartment to meet with him before going to the office.

Alfred brought Ivan to Vanderhall's office, where the details of the defecting agreement would be worked out.

"So, you want us to bring your sisters over here, and you want a new apartment. Why is it necessary you have these things?"

Ivan felt it would be obvious, but answered the question with the no-nonsense attitude that was trained into him. "I need my sisters here so I know they are safe. If they come here and they live at the home I am at now, they will not be safe. The KGB officers know where I live, they know how to find me and they know that I will keep my sisters close to me. If I get a new place to live, the KGB won't know where I am and I can keep my family safe." Vanderhall nodded and signed the necessary forms. He passed them over to Ivan and he signed where he was instructed.

"You will be a double agent for us. You will continue to report to the KGB but you will tell them what we tell you to tell them. You will report to us after each meeting with the KGB and you will do exactly as wel say to ensure your safty and survival. If you do not fully comply with these terms, we cannot guarantee that you won't be killed." Vanderhall explained the contract while Ivan signed it. The last sentence he spoke made Ivan chuckle slightly.

"I signed up for the KGB knowing I can be killed at any moment. This does not bother or scare me." He looked Alfred's head boss right in the face. "I am not defecting for my safety. I am not defecting because I am turning on my country. I am defecting for my sisters. I am defecting so I know my family stays safe. I have done things that the KGB has not approved and I know they are after me. The first place they will go is my sisters. I need them here with me as soon as possible so they will not be targeted back home."

Vanderhall nodded. "We will work on getting them here, but it may take a while. You know with communications and such, I don't know how long it will take." Ivan stood up, not liking the response he received.

"You will get my sisters here or I will give you no information. No names, no addresses, nothing. You will not get anything from me and I will continue to work against you until you get them here."

"Ivan, relax man, we'll get it done. Don't blow a gasket, just cool it. I promise you, we will get your sisters. Even if it means I have to get them myself, we will get them." Alfred reassured him. Ivan closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a few seconds before nodding and sitting back down.

"Just bring them to me." He finally whispered. Ivan stood up and left Alfred and Vanderhall alone in the room. He needed to find the sensor. He looked at the buttons on the elevator and pressed one at random. Five. Seemed as good as any number to him. He waited patiently in the elevator. It was a few seconds that felt like hours as he he descended a mere two floors. The doors opened and he stepped out, trying to blend in with the people spread sporadically around the area. He looked around, and sat at an empty desk surrounded by boxes.

"Excuse me, sir, are you lost?" A man approached him. Ivan said the first thing that came to his mind.

"No, I am a new worker here." Not exactly a lie. Ivan was proud of himself for that.

"I see, must have replaced him already. You have a strange accent there though, bud. You can call me Sanders, I'll be your boss. I'll probably have you work with Alfred, look after him and such." Ivan looked at him with a confused expression, but quickly nodded, going along with the story.

"Alright. I was told I only need to report to the one upstairs. I forget is name, but I wasn't told of anyone else."

"Dammit! They always forget about me. Yeah Vanderhall up there on the seventh floor only cares for himself and his assets. He doesn't care at all for the people who work under him, literally." Sanders shook his head. "Well, I care for you. I'll make sure nothing happens to you. Here, let me show you to your desk." Sanders led Ivan to Brian's old desk, where all the evidence of his murder was being kept. Ivan's eyes twinkled with opportunity. "This is your area. It'll take a few days to get all these boxes out of here, but make yourself comfortable!"

"No, this will not do. Let me help put this away. Just show me where it goes and I will put it all there." Ivan tried not to sound to hopeful.

"Sure, and since I'm going there too, let me get a box." Sanders picked up a box and led Ivan to one of the storage closets. He placed the box down on the floor, looking back at Ivan. "You can put all the boxes here. Don't look inside them though, you're not cleared to have access to them."

Ivan nodded, thinking of the irony of it all. Sanders left and Ivan followed him, heading back to the office to grab another box. He said that he would be placed with Alfred, that meant this guy was Alfred's boss as well. He had to find the sensor quick, so Alfred didn't catch him. He needed to gain Sanders' trust though. He placed the box on top of another in the closet, and left to get another.

Sanders looked at the 'new worker' through the shades covering the window between his office and the workers' floor. He watched him as he went back and forth from the closet to the office, not once peering inside the boxes. He smiled, feeling confident that this man would be able to knock some sense into his reckless employee. Something hit him then; what was this guy's name?

Ivan placed a nother box into the closet, distracted by the thoughts of which one would have his sensor. He settled on simply lifting the lids of the box and giving it a quick once over for the small silver box before carrying it to the closet. He jumped up when he felt a tapping on his shoulder and jumped in the air from the slight action.

"Oh man, I didn't mean to make you jump like that! I'm sorry. I just don't think I got your name." Sanders said somewhat sympathetically.

"Ah yes, it is Ivan. My name is Ivan Brandonson." Ivan stated with slight hesitation, mentally kicking himself for using the horribly made KGB alias.

"Brandonson, that's quite the name there." Sanders had heard the name before, but he did not know where. He decided to check his files for it. With that, he left Ivan alone.

Ivan thought it as a blessing, but with all blessings come a catch. He was now on a time limit to find his sensor. He forced himself to walk to the office. As soon as the door was closed, he threw himself to his knees in front of the remaining boxes. He searched each one carefully but swiftly, going through the four remaining boxes quickly. Not there. He tidied up the area and went to the closet, closing the door behind him there as well, going through all the boxes he had piled up in there.

Sanders walked down the aisles of the file room, knowing everything was sorted alphabetically. The B section was on the far side. He tried not to run so he didn't cause suspicion to himself. Time was not on his side, the longer he took finding the file, the longer he left his suspect alone. A potential KGB in the CIA was no ideal, and the press would have a field day with this. He found all the files starting with Brandon. He searched quickly for Brandonson.

The file titled "Brandonson, Ivan" wasn't hard to find after that. There was no image, but it was there clearly. Brandonson, Ivan. Musician for night clubs. Specializes in the Saxophone. Pale blond hair, blue-violet eyes, 5'11". This was the man. There was a damned KGB officer in his CIA counter-spy department. He needed to get him out of there. Sanders rushed back to the office space with the file in hand.

By the time Sanders got there, Ivan was gone. Damn his beer belly, if he had been more in shape, he would have made it. He opened the closet. Everything seemed to be in order, but looks were very deceiving. He should have asked for an ID card. He should have done something. He slammed the file on his own desk in anger before checking the boxes. There had to be something in there he wanted. It was too coincidental. He noticed the missing item. The mysterious silver box. The Russian had his KGB tech back, and he was probably long gone by now. He sat at his desk, unsure of what to do next.

Ivan stood in the elevator as he heard rushed footsteps pass by him. He was breathing heavily and sweating slightly. He made his way to the seventh floor, where Alfred and Vanderhall were. He wiped his face down and knocked on the office door.

"Alfred? I made it all the way downstairs before I figured I should wait for you and your boss to tell me what to do." Ivan stated through the door.

Alfred opened the door. "Yeah that'd probably be a smart thing to do, bro. So what should we do boss-man? Let the Ruskie go back to his commie boss and have them all play nice-like for now?"

Vanderhall nodded, "yes, that seems like the best thing to do for now. You both may leave." Alfred nodded taking Ivan by the hand and leading them back to his Manhattan apartment.

Vanderhall relaxed in his chair slightly before his phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered it quickly.

"Vanderhall! It's Deb. There's a fucking KGB officer in the CIA. Do you know how bad this is?!"

"Yes I am aware of Ivan. He signed a defection agreement today."

"Defection? Then why did he come down here and steal back his box thing that we found in Brian's house?"

"Are you trying to say this is all some sort of play being mapped out by the KGB?"

"I'm not sure, but it's worth looking into. I wouldn't let this guy in on too much. Let's just get what we can from him, and then leave him."

"Yes, it seems like the best plan. He seems to be a liability as of now, but we still need that information."

"Just letting you know, keeping you up to date a such."

"Thank you, Sanders."

"No problem."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan goes against some of the KGB rules and finalizes some things with the CIA.

"I got your damned sensor back." Ivan dropped the sensor on Vladim's desk.   
   
"Very good comrade, although I would watch my mouth if I were you."   
   
"You should not tell me what to do. We are all supposedly equal, yes? Then you are not above me. Just turn it off and I will be on my way." Ivan wanted nothing more than to get out of there. His palms were starting to sweat, thinking they already knew what kind of papers he had just finished signing the day before.   
   
"Yes, yes. I will do that now." Vladim took the sensor and bright it into the back room. When he came back out, the light on the sensor was no longer blinking. Ivan took it wordlessly and left.    
   
A messenger came into Vladim's office when Ivan left, bringing in a box of new sensors. Vladim thanked the man and sent Aleksander to deliver the new sensor to all KGB personnel in the city.    
   
Ivan made it to his home and had just enough time to take off his shoes and coat before there was a knock on the door. Ivan huffed and opened it.   
   
"Sasha. Is there something you need?" Ivan held his hand on the door, refusing to let him have access to his home once again.    
   
"Yes, a new sensor came in. It has a self destruct mechanism in it now that can be activated from the office. I was created due to your negligence." Aleksander knew the sensor was created more due to the negligence of those still in Moscow, but he felt the need to intimidate Ivan and give him a false sense of how quickly the KGB can create new technology.    
   
"Yes, thank you." He took the sensor and shut the door, breathing heavily. It had only been a few days since he lost the first sensor, and now there was one specifically made for him. He was scared to know how long it would be before they knew he defected. Ivan shook his head and made his way to the phone.    
   
He unplugged an extra wire that was placed there to monitor his calls, and called Alfred soon after.    
   
"Hey bro, this is Alfred. What can I do ya for?"   
   
"Must you always be so obnoxious. I have received something from the KGB but I will tell you nothing more until my sisters are safely here."   
   
"Alright, chill bro, lemme see what I can do. I'll head into the office right now and see what's up with that. I'm sure boss-man has something planned by now."   
   
"Da, I will meet you there." Ivan didn't wait for a reply and hung up the phone. He wasn't going to let people discuss his sisters' fates without him at least being there to oversee it. 

An hour later, Ivan was in the office, seated next to Alfred in front of Vanderhall. 

"So my sisters will be here in two weeks?" Ivan was not liking the sound of this. 

"Yes, and during those two weeks, we ask that you completely and unquestioningly comply with anything we ask of you." Vanderhall stated unwaveringly. Alfred glared at him. 

"We won't ask anything too extreme though." Alfred tried to reassure Ivan. 

"Is fine. I will try my best with everything you ask. I will not be able to give any direct answers to the questions until my sisters are here though. I will retrieve everything you tell me to retrieve. I will have the answers to any questions you ask. I will have everything you need, but you will not get these things until I have my sisters here with me. I place their safety above everything." Alfred nodded, understanding where Ivan was coming from. He had his own brother in Canada and if it weren't for the weekly letters going back and forth between them, he would want Matthew with him as well.  

"We will work to make sure your sisters are safe." Alfred placed his hand on Ivan's shoulder in a comforting manner. Vanderhall nodded in agreement. 

"I don't like these terms, but it seems you are firm in your statement. I will get your family here as soon as I can." Ivan nodded at Vanderhall's confirmation. 

"I will give you an incentive to speed up the process. As soon as my sisters are with me, I will give you an item that was issued to all KGB agents as a tracking device." Ivan toyed with the sensor in his pocket. 

"Looks like you have to hurry up on that then, don'cha boss-man?" Alfred smiled as he stood up, making his way to the door. 

"Yes, I will make sure they are here soon." Vanderhall nodded as a sign for Alfred and Ivan to leave. Alfred made his way down stair to his desk, rummaging through the papers and such on there. Ivan followed him, not sure of what else to do. 

"Oh! I have to give this to Sanders! It's a Christmas present for his nephew. Wait here, alright?" Ivan nodded, taking a look at the name written on the front of the packaging. Bernard. Ivan smiled to himself, thinking that he was just a young, spoiled child for getting his present weeks in advance. 

"How old is this Bernard?" Ivan asked, wondering why he gets his present early. It was only December twentieth. 

"Oh, he's thirteen!" Alfred responded. "He's super into politics though so I got him Truman's new book!" 

"Why are you giving him his present early then?"  

"It's not early, it's just not late like your commie Christmas. Here's it's on the twenty-fifth of December!" Alfred sauntered about the office, explaining the details of the American Christmas he grew up with. Then Deb passed by them. 

"Alfred! What are you doing with that KGB spy in your office?" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Alfred froze in his place, looking over. He instantly relaxed and tried to make his boss relax as well. 

"Calm yourself man, this is the defector guy." Alfred placed both his hands on Sanders' shoulders, trying to calm him 

"That guy stole something that we recovered from Brian's crime scene. He is no defector, he's working for the KGB still." Sanders' words shook Alfred, but he needed to think of something quick to defend Ivan. 

"Yeah, this is all a part of Vanderhall's plan. He's going to be a double agent. He's going to stay on the KGB's good side so he can keep giving us the updated information. What good is having him on our side if all the information he has is outdated?" Sanders narrowed his eyes, but nodded, accepting Alfred's decision. 

"If it's a part of Richard's plan, then I guess I'll go with it."  

"That's a good Deborah. Now, I'm going back out into the field, and there's nothing you or Vanderhall or anyone else can do!" Alfred waved toward Ivan in a come on fashion. Ivan followed, almost certain they were headed to one of their apartments. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan gets his new house and his sisters back in exchange for some KGB tech finally!

Alfred knocked on Ivan's door. For the past couple of weeks, he had been keeping up with his end of the bargain. Alfred and the CIA have not asked questions that Ivan wouldn't answer. Ivan opened the door and let Alfred into his home.

"What are you doing here?" Ivan wasn't scheduled for another visit until the eighth, five days from now.

"I am here to tell you that your sisters are on their way!" Ivan stood up suddenly, almost not believing he would see his sisters again.

"When will they be here?" Ivan yelled, not caring for his neighbors who might hear him.

"They should be here in a few days, bro! Just relax!" Alfred held his hands up in defense, trying to ward off the oncoming Russian.

"I am not your 'bro'! Just get my sisters here and I will help you stop the KGB from coming after you."

"Will do! Will do." Alfred was nearly pushing the frightening man away from him. "They should be here by the ninth at the latest." Alfred dropped his hands as Ivan headed back into the kitchen.

"Since you have not yet turned around and left, there either is more you will be telling me or you are planning to stay for dinner, yes?" Ivan continued to prepare his food, trying not to get himself overly excited.

"No, not really. I'm supposed to be helping you pack now. The CIA secured a new place for you to settle in." Alfred leaned against the counter, looking at the television in Ivan's living room. It wasn't turned on; Alfred huffed in annoyance.

"I will finish cooking the meal, and then we can pack." Ivan put the food into the pot and put the lid on it. Alfred was seated in front of Ivan's television, watching the news for the day.

The day progressed as the two had planned. Ivan finished cooking while Alfred watched his television. Afterwards, they ate while they packed things in boxes, never once fully sitting at the table. The next day, the two moved his things carefully into uptown Brooklyn. Ivan was anxious, but he was near the border to Queens, where there were less Russian refugees, and less possible KGB members. The two were so tired after moving the boxes that they fell asleep right on the bed after laying the mattress on it, not even caring for changing their clothes or for putting sheets on the bed.

Alfred woke up mid-day to the television on, and Ivan watching it, still surrounded in boxes. Curious, Alfred checked to see what he was watching.

"You're actually watching that? Isn't it exactly the opposite of what you hear in the commie HQ?" Alfred asked, sitting down next to Ivan to watch President Eisenhower deliver his State of the Union address.

"Not really. Just replace Communism with Capitalism, and Russia with America, and you get what we are told in the USSR. It really is the same thing." Alfred stared at him, not knowing what to say. He was sure he was telling the truth, but at the same time, he didn't want to believe him. They turned their attention back to the screen.

"... have closed ranks against imperialistic Communism and strengthened their economic ties, so free nations elsewhere have forged new bonds of unity."

"There! He is calling Communism 'imperialistic', the same thing is said about Capitalism where I am from. They say that Capitalism is corruption for the mind and only benefits the wealthy." Ivan stood up after saying this, feeling the need to cool off. He started unpacking the boxes, placing things where they belong.

"Yeah but the difference here is anyone can get wealthy. Corruption is everywhere, Vanya. That's we agreed you to you helping us, remember?" Alfred patted Ivan's shoulder as he nodded.

"Let us make this place presentable for my sisters. They should be coming soon, yes?" Ivan tried to distract himself. 

"Yeah! A few more days! They'll be staying a couple blocks away to make sure they stay safe. If something were to happen to you, your sisters would still be safe."

"Thank you. That's important to me." Alfred nodded in response, helping unpack the boxes.

By the time they finished with the house, it was night time. Ivan decided to celebrate his new home by preforming at the now conveniently placed jazz club. Alfred sat and watched him preform just as when they first met.

The next morning, Alfred went into work to see two very out of place women in his boss's office.

"Ah! These are his sisters?" Vanderhall nodded. "Great! Let me get Ivan in here right away!" The two women looked at each other and started talking among themselves in Russian. Half an hour later, Ivan walked into the office.

"Katya! Nata!" Ivan nearly ran up to the two awkward looking girls and hugged them tightly. "Я рад, что ты не больно." He whispered softly to them, holding their heads close to his chest. His sisters responded back to him in Russian.

"Why are we here? We have done nothing wrong." Yeketerina looked worriedly up at her brother.

"Yes, you have done nothing wrong. I have done something wrong. Go with this man though. He will take you to my home." He looked to Alfred and spoke to them in English. "Bring them to my home. I will give your boss all the information I have gathered now." Yeketerina and Nataliya looked at each other confused at the words Ivan spoke in English. They learned a bit of English in the Soviet Union, but Ivan was speaking too fast for them to understand.

"Brother, I refuse to be separated from you once more." Nataliya objected in Russian as she firmly held onto Ivan's arm.

Ivan turned to his younger sister. "Nata, go with Katya. I will be there soon. You trust me, yes? I will explain everything to you later on." Nataliya huffed in annoyance but let go of Ivan all the same, following her sister out the door. Alfred did as he was told and lead the two women to Ivan's home.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Ivan started speaking. "Let us get straight to the point, да?" He placed the old KGB sensor on the desk. "This is the latest KGB spy technology. It's used to track me. It uses a RADAR scanner in the USSR embassy. I can activate it when needed. It requires a moderate amount of force to activate it, and it can be broken but only by a sudden impact of about seventy kilograms of force. It was sealed using heat, so you will have to heat the seam here slowly to loosen the metal." He traced a small indent with his finger. "It should slide off once you've heated it enough. The light here turns on when it's activated. It pulses in time with the pulses the RADAR picks up." Ivan stood up. "Have fun with that. I will be back tomorrow with some of the papers you asked me to retrieve for you." Ivan left immediately after saying this, leaving his new boss no time to respond.

Ivan made it to his home as fast as he could. Even Alfred was surprised at how quickly Ivan walked into the door, being only a few minutes behind them.

"Your sister here, the one with the short hair, she looks like Marilyn Monroe!" Alfred said happily.

"Do not speak of my sister in such a way. She is older than both you and me. Now leave please. I do not need to have your prying ears listening on my family's conversation." Alfred felt insulted, but he knew now was not the time to bring it up. Ivan needed to talk some things over with his sisters, so he left without a fight. Ivan was grateful for this, and knew he had to make it up to him somehow. For now, he turned to his sisters, addressing them in Russian. "I am willing to answer any questions you may have."

"Why are we here? And what did you mean when you said you did something wrong?" Yeketerina was the first to speak up.

"You are here because it is not safe for you to be home anymore. When we were in Russia, I joined the KGB." Ivan answered.

"That's where the extra money was coming from." Nataliya realized.

"Yes, that's also why I had to leave. The KGB saw something in me. They thought I would never turn on them. That's why they chose me to be one of the first overseas spies. They were wrong though. What we had to go through while Father was serving in The Great Patriotic War is not something that we should have endured in this government style. They nearly enlisted me to join them. I was only fifteen at the time! A child! A person of that age should not have to experience war like that. That's why I decided to do this. The corruption is too much. Do you see what is around us? There are things here that we would never dream of having back home. There is a television here for our personal use! In the Soviet Government buildings, there is much more opulence than this. I have seen it myself."

"So we are here because of your need to destroy the corrupt government that our father fought for?" Yeketerina tried to sum up what Ivan said in the simplest way possible.

Ivan huffed, not exactly sure how to answer that. He couldn't exactly tell them that the reason he turned against the KGB was to protect Alfred, but he couldn't let his sisters know that he didn't care about their Father's beliefs.

"Yeketerina, you and I both know it is more complex than that. Please, do not try to simplify it so much." It was the best he could come up with.

"I am alright with this. If it allows me to be closer to Ivan, then I am alright with it." Nataliya was just happy to finally be close to him again. "You should be happy for this too, sister."

"You're right, Nata. I trust you to do what is right Vanya." Yeketerina finally said happily. Ivan smiled the most true smile he had smiled in a long time, pulling the two in for a hug once more and kissing the top of their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> да - yes  
> Я рад, что ты не больно. - I am glad you are not hurt.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The KGB start to suspect Ivan as he hands over the papers and talks a bit to Alfred

"Ivan, there are papers missing from the office." Vladim looked up at Ivan with a disapproving face. "Do you know where they are?"

"They are in my home." Ivan responded simply.

"Very well, we will come by to pick them up soon."

"I moved." Ivan responded a little too quickly.

"Oh did you now? You didn't let us know of this." Vladim was starting to suspect something was wrong.

"I moved recently. I haven't gotten around to filing the change of address form yet." Ivan hoped it would worked.

"Very well. Make sure it gets done." Vladim was still suspicious, but it wasn't too bad... Yet.

"Let the man go. Where ever he goes, we'll be able to find him!" Aleksander added with a smile on his face. "It's funny to think he can escape from us." He was talking only to Vladim, not even acknowledging Ivan any more.

"You are right, Sasha. Vanya, you are dismissed." Ivan wasted no time in leaving the office. He couldn't stand being in there any longer. What he once thought was a grand office fit for the KGB officers who resided in it was now a place of overwhelming opulence and greed. There was no logical reason for half the things in that office to be there. There was no reason for a KGB office to have golden statues and fragile china tea sets. He breathed the air of the outside world as he headed into the subway to go to his home. Aleksander tried to follow him.

Ivan stood on the crowded train car holding onto a pole for support. He looked out of the windows, into the blackness of the tunnel. That's when he saw it, the reflection of a certain KGB member. Ivan closed his eyes and breathed. He'd have to loose him, but then they'd be more suspicious. Ivan thought for a second more. It was what he had to do.

"Forty-second street! Forty-second street station is next." Ivan got an idea. He got off at the station and headed upstairs. He walked straight to Time Square, making sure not to attract any unwanted attention to himself. He turned a corner; Aleksander was still following him. Ivan found himself in a crowd, but due to his height, he was still noticeable. He ducked down a bit, moving with the flow of the crowd. Across streets, around corners, he followed it blindly like a flock of sheep until he found another subway entrance.

He dropped his coin into the turnstile and looked around, confident that he lost his tail. Ivan signed contently, finally getting on the train to go home. Ivan walked into his apartment and found his sisters cooking a meal for him.

"You two are still here? It's dangerous to be here, you know." Ivan stated warily.

"Yes I have told his to Nata, but she does not want to be away from you." Yeketerina said sadly. She looked like she was going to cry again.

"I have been without you for too long. I cannot be without you any longer, Vanya. Let us get married so I will never have to be without you!" Natalya nearly screeched the last statement, causing Ivan to crouch in slight terror.

"I cannot do that Nata, there are rules against it here." He hoped it would be enough. "Either way, I still have work that I need to do. I will come back later and I expect to see you both gone from here and in your own home. Do you understand?" Ivan hoped he was being authoritative without being too harsh.

"Nata, we should listen to our brother." Yeketerina tried to convince her younger sister.

"Katyusha. I refuse to be without him." It didn't quite work.

"Nata, I will always be here and you can see me any time you like but you cannot be here at all times. I let Katya have that key because you two need to be able to come here if you are in danger. I did not let you have it so you can come and visit me when ever you like. Please respect my rules, alright?" Ivan looked at Natalya right in her eyes. She was wavering.

"Alright. I will do ask you ask." She surrendered.

"Good. Now I will see you tonight in your home!" He emphasized. The two women made sounds of agreement before going off to their own home.

Now that he was finally alone, Ivan was able to gather his papers ready, put them in a bag and head to the CIA office to give them to Vanderhall. Ivan found himself lost in his thoughts the entire way to his office.

"I have brought the papers you have asked for." Ivan stated quietly, pulling them from his bag.

"Good! I was starting to think you weren't going to show up. We'd have to send people to your house then, and make sure you're still on our side." Vanderhall smiled, glad to see he didn't have to go through that.

"Yes, your papers are here. Now, may I take my leave?" Ivan didn't like being in the office. It was very gray, and very boring. It had none of the opulence the KGB office had, which he liked, but it was still very bland.

"Yeah. of course, Alfred is a couple floors downstairs if you want to see him." Vanderhall said with a careless wave, looking through the papers.

"Yes, I think I will. I will need those papers back within the hour though. I will return for them. Take what ever information you need, rewrite it if you must, but I will be back for them." Ivan said menacingly. Vanderhall, again, responded carelessly. Ivan left to Alfred's office.

"Hey there big guy! Anything new happen?" Alfred smiled, offering the tall Russian a chair across from his own.

"Other than my sister wanting to marry me, not really." Ivan held his head in his hands, rubbing at his forehead. "What am I to do?"

"Well, about the sister thing, why don't you get married before she can marry you?" Alfred felt his face heat up at the idea of marrying someone he cared for.

"I do not think that is a good idea." Ivan looked up in thought for a second "Marriage is a legal contract between two individuals," he recited.

"You're right, you're right. So what should you do?" Alfred tried thinking of more things Ivan could do.

"I will just try my best to avoid her as often as possible. She has my other sister to keep her company." Ivan finally concluded. "What is happening with you?"

"My brother's coming to visit next week! He's bringing his friend as well." Alfred stated happily. Ivan nodded, not knowing what else to say. the two fell into an awkward silence.

"I must retrieve my papers." Ivan said after a while. He headed upstairs, glad to finally be out of that awkward atmosphere. Ivan gathered his papers and headed to his home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew moves into Alfred's house, and Alfred moves into Ivan's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gagal_axzel - Thank you so much for all the comments and support! I actually changed the final chapter count to a '?' again because I'm not sure if I'm posting one or two more chapters after this one.

This pattern continued for the next week. Ivan returned the papers to the KGB office after Vanderhall finished with them, leaving the opulent office as soon as possible. Vladim tried to convince him to stay, but Ivan was quick to make an excuse, saying he had an appointment to go to. Vladim didn't press further than that, once again sending Aleksander to find out where we was going. Ivan, once again, was able to lose him and headed home.

Ivan had just enough time to settle himself in his living room before there was a knock on the door. Ivan huffed and answered it.

"Hey there, dude! I figured you'd want to meet my brother!" Alfred motioned to his brother behind him. He looked up at Ivan through his long bangs shyly.

"H-hello. I'm Matthew. You must be Ivan, yes? My brother has told me a lot about you." Matthew held his hand out for Ivan to shake it. Ivan nodded to answer his question, moving to accept the held out hand.

"I have not heard much of you from Alfred. It hardly seems fair. He only speaks of work with me." Ivan responded. "Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable." Alfred and Matthew entered the small house. Matthew took his shoes off at the door, noticing Ivan's in a similar place. Alfred headed straight to the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

"Vanya, when you get a chance, come here?" Alfred called out from inside the fridge. Ivan sighed audibly before heading to Alfred.

"What is it you need?" Ivan answered slightly irritated.

"I need to stay here with you. Matthew came here because he couldn't live in Canada anymore. He got fired from his job, so he couldn't afford his house anymore. He came here to ask if he can stay with me here with his partner and of course I said yes. So can I stay here until they find a place to stay?" Alfred rambled slightly, still hoping Ivan would say yes.

"I suppose it would help keep my sisters away. You may stay." Ivan stated after a short while of thought. Alfred pumped his fist in the air.

"Sweet! I get to stay here and live with you!" Matthew overheard Alfred's loud deceleration from the living room and decided to head over to them.

"You're letting us stay in the house alone?" He was in shock at Alfred's seemingly rash decision.

"Yeah! I trust you to watch over the machines and give me a call when I get a message." Alfred stated happily. Ivan gave him a wary glance.

"My phone is wired, remember?" Ivan hoped Matthew wouldn't ask too many questions about this statement or about his line of work.

"No it's not. We disconnected the KGB wires but left them on to make you think they're still working. That way we could trick you into not saying much, but with me living with you, there'll be no need!" Ivan sighed. He had been careful not to talk to his sisters on the phone because of the wires. He wanted nothing more than to punch the American Capitalist pig right in the face. Matthew seemed to notice this, and tried to lighten the mood.

"Guys, guys, relax. We're all working on the same side of the war now, yes? What good will hurting our teammates," he looked to Alfred "our comrades," he looked to Ivan "do for us as a whole?" Matthew hesitantly looked between the two of them, unsure of what to do. The two seemed to relax. Alfred put his head back in the fridge, looking for something to eat while Ivan grabbed some biscuits from the cabinet. He dropped them on the table, making a sound for Alfred to hear. Sure enough, Alfred grabbed the biscuits and headed to the living room to start eating.

"So you will be staying in Alfred's home, da? Is nice. You will like it there. It's in Manhattan, the heart of the city." Matthew shook his head a little.

"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to it." Ivan tilted his head in confused at the smaller man's words. "It's not my type of environment. Al is busy and energetic and all that. I'm not. I keep to myself, I'm reserved. I really don't like it at all." Ivan looked down at the floor, wondering what he could do to help. "Oh don't look like that! My partner actually really likes the bustle of New York's night life so it works out nicely. Ivan nodded, smiling at his guest before going to Alfred.

"So you come in, uninvited, and ask to live here. What if I said no?" Alfred scoffed at Ivan's words.

"Dude, I totally knew you wouldn't actually say no." Alfred stated confidently. "I've known you for long enough now that I can predict your responses and emotions. Ivan shook his head, sitting down next to Alfred. "Mattie, you can leave now if you'd like. You know how to get back to the apartment right? I'll be there in a bit to pack some of my stuff." Matthew nodded and left, leaving Ivan to stare at his own partner with disgust evident on his face.

"That was not very nice of you." Ivan stated, not knowing how else to chastise the man.

"Yeah, well, you're a commie." Alfred retorted, again, not knowing how else to respond. 

There was a knock at his door. Alfred and Ivan looked at each other confusedly. Alfred stood up to answer it. It was Ivan's sisters.

"What are you two doing here?" Ivan asked in Russian.

"Nata wanted to see you again and make sure you had food for dinner." Ivan sighed at Yeketerina's words.

"Big brother, what is this pig doing in your house?" Natalya questioned harshly.

"Natalya! Be nice! He is a guest of mine. He needs a place to stay and so he will be staying here." Ivan gave a disapproving look to his little sister as she reached for one of the kitchen knifes. She put it down and left. "Katya, you should probably make sure she makes it home alright. Thank you for worrying and checking up on be but I am fine. I promise." Ivan smiled to his elder sister as she left.

"Your sisters are weird." Alfred commented mindlessly.

"Yes, yes they are." Ivan responded in the same English Alfred had used. The two located the bottles of liquor from their last night together, and proceeded to engage in the same activities as the previous night.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan lies once again to Alfred and finally is able to keep his family and his lover safe.

Vladim stood at his desk, preparing a few glasses of vodka for himself and his 'agent'. "So, you have returned the files to the room." He placed the platter of drinks on the coffee table in front of Ivan.

"Yes, I have." Ivan responded dryly, not reaching for the glass.

"That's strange, considering I made it very clear that the files are not to leave the office, as they may fall into the wrong hands." Vladim's glare was hard on Ivan. He knew. He knew Ivan was working for the CIA. Ivan started to sweat slightly. He had to stay strong. Vladim would pick up on the slightest bit of fear and use it to his advantage.

"I needed it to gain their trust. I am inside the CIA now. I can work from the inside out, getting you anything you'd ever need or want." Ivan spoke the Russian words swiftly yet crisply. He wasn't going to let himself be harmed, especially not if it meant his loved ones would be hurt.

"Oh? You went behind our backs to get into the CIA. Now why would you do that?" Vladim played along with his game, wanting to see where it ended up.

"I did this because I knew you would never approve it face to face. I have been planning this for a very long time." Ivan lied, but it was close enough to the truth.

"I see. Sounds reasonable enough. I hope you know what you are doing Comrade Braginski. You do know how restless the bosses in Moscow are. They haven't heard from you in weeks!" Vladim's mouth turned up into a smirk. "Let's not keep them waiting, yes?"

Ivan sighed. "No, let's not." Vladim reached for the phone, dialing in a number and handing it over to Ivan. He explained his situation to the head on the other side of the phone. He had never heard of the man he was speaking to, although his voice did sound familiar. Ivan explained things simply. He borrowed the files from the office to gain the trust of the CIA and now he has gained their trust, so he can pass information. The man on the other side of the phone made a sound of approval and hung up. "Are you happy? The head now knows what I have been doing for the past few weeks."

"Yes, this is good, but why are your sisters here as well?" Ivan stiffened at the mention of his sisters. "Oh you knew they were here? Of course you did. Mind telling me why they are here?" Vladim's tone of voice became condescending.

"They are here to not raise suspicion. The CIA wanted to make a deal. I knew that if I refused the deal, they would know something was up, so I decided to go the opposite way and make sure that the deal was something I would plausibly want in that situation, the safety of my family."

Vladim nodded. "Sure, sure. Sounds like something you'd want. What did you give them in return for 'your sisters' safety'?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? That seems highly unlikely." Vladim leaned back in his chair, ready to hear a good story.

"It's true. Do you think I would have given the CIA the files right away? No. I would want to make sure my sisters were safe before doing anything rash. During that time, I was able to switch out the files from the folder with fake ones. I believe the CIA bought the whole thing." Ivan lied through his teeth.

"I see. That's very smart of you, Vanya. It took a lot of planning on your part. I am proud of you." Vladim smiled genuinely at Ivan.

Aleksander walked into the room."I am proud of you as well!" That was where Ivan had heard the voice from! He wasn't talking to the people in Moscow! It would have taken too long to connect over such a long distance. Ivan wanted to slap himself for being so stupid.

"Thank you, really. It means a lot to me." Ivan forced himself to smile and tried not to laugh at the fact that the KGB bought his bag of lies.

"We are going to give you a promotion for thinking this all on your own and going through with it for not getting caught." Vladim stood as he spoke, taking pouring himself another glass of vodka and getting a third for Aleksander.

"Oh, it's not necessary, but thank you." Ivan tried to remain humble while he sat in the sofa. Aleksander took the glass prepared for him and pushed the last one into Ivan's hands, still full from the beginning of the meeting.

"It is! Drink! You are now General Ivan Braginski, head of the overseas field agents! This is the time to celebrate!" Ivan nodded, throwing back the numbing liquid. The others in the room nodded at Ivan's actions and gave him his new parade uniform, for when he returned to Russia for the marches. Ivan thanked the two men, and left. He hid the soviet hammer and sickle in the layers of fabric as he rode on the subway trains to his house.

As he walked in the door, he noticed the light was on. He carefully stepped into his home not sure who would be in there. He unscrewed the head of the broom and held the stick as he would his pipe. He slowly rounded the corner only to find Alfred with his face filled with the Bird's Milk desert his sisters had left for him.

"This stuff is really good! Not too sweet and kinda sour but still really good!! What's it made from?" Ivan shook his head but smiled slightly as Alfred spoke with his mouth filled.

"It is made from whipped cream of milk, sour cream, gelatin, regular milk and sugar." Ivan placed his new uniform on the table a good distance from Alfred's mess.

"And communism!" Ivan shook his head at Alfred's addition. "What's that? A military uniform? Looks new." Alfred reached for it but Ivan smacked his sticky hand away.

"It is a new uniform. I got a promotion today." Ivan smiled halfheartedly.

"Really?! Those stupid commies don't know you're working for us now or something? They give you a raise with that uniform?" Alfred washed his hands.

"No, I don't think so. There aren't really 'raises' in the Soviet Union." Ivan cleaned up what was left of his treat. "The KGB think I'm working for them, so this is good." Ivan wasn't exactly lying to Alfred.

"Yeah, totally! Wonder what the CIA's going to have you do now that you got promoted." Alfred said half to himself as he examined the coat of the new uniform.

"Probably what I have been doing." Ivan reasoned simply.

"Yeah you're right." Alfred laid the coat down. "As long as you're actually working for us, everything's good." Ivan nodded to Alfred's words, not wanting his voice to give away a lie to someone he was so close to.

"Let us to go bed. It is getting late, yes?" Alfred nodded, heading off toward the bedroom. Ivan hung up his new uniform, feeling guilty about changing sides back to the KGB. He sighed heavily, placing it into his closet. If he had to lie to Alfred to keep everyone safe, then so be it. He couldn't risk losing everyone. He closed the closet door, headed to the bedroom where Alfred as already half asleep, and fell asleep next to him.

In this moment, it didn't matter who he lied to, as long as everyone he cared about was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this! It means a lot to me ;u;


End file.
